Life, Love, and Everything in Between
by Sweet Mercy
Summary: Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong but ends up falling deeper in love. SLASH, MPREG, SSHP
1. Christmas Surprise

**Rating:** M

**Warnings:** Slash, Mpreg,

**Pairings:** SS/HP

**Genres:** Romance, Angst, Humour, Drama, Horror, Thriller

**Summary:** Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love.But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection- can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late?

**A/N:** Whoops...I know I should be writing more for my other fic, but I just can't concentrate. But I have loads of this fic already written, so I figured it couldn't hurt to have another on the go...Plus, I really needed to write something about Harry and Severus!

* * *

**Life, Love, and Everything in Between**

by SweetMercy

**Chapter One: Chri****stmas Surprise**

Severus Snape was not a happy man.

Severus Snape was irritated, frustrated, aggravated, infuriated, exasperated and, frankly, was down right annoyed.

He was also disgusted by the fact that he felt some what '_horny'_, as teenagers say nowadays. _You horny devil..._

Yeah, well, the devil had to have something to do with this all right! I mean, _please!_ It was _Potter_ he was lusting after here! _Harry James Potter_. That was just…_wrong! _He was practically old enough to be his father! No, wait a minute…he _was_ old enough to be his father! And besides, it was James Potter's son for crying out loud! And they virtually looked the same. But had he ever found James Potter attractive? No he had not!

Severus sighed and stopped his pacing in favour of collapsing onto the bed. The silk covers were cool and soft against his burning skin but it did nothing to calm him. He brought his hands up to his tired face and cringed inwardly at the thoughts swimming around in his head. Every time he closed his eyes he saw _him_; saw Potter standing there all…_cute_ and _fuckable_.

_Argh! No! I did not just think of Potter as 'cute'._

He snickered darkly to himself as he listened to his thoughts. He'd called him 'fuckable', yet he was worried about calling him _'cute'_!

_Well, duh! 'Cute' is such a feminine word, _a voice said to him; _Severus Snape does not use the word 'cute'. _

What was he going to do? Severus Snape had found himself in many a difficult position before; he'd lied to the Dark Lord's face and gotten away with it, he'd lied to the Dark Lord's face and _not_ gotten away with it, he'd been interrogated by the Ministry, he'd been interrogated by the Death Eaters, he'd been forced to torture, forced to rape, forced to kill; he'd even had the fact that he was 'queer' shouted all over the school by Sirius Black and James Potter. But this…this was something else.

He, Severus Snape, was lusting after Harry Potter. Yearning, longing, craving, wishing, hoping, praying. He _needed_ Harry Potter. He _wanted_ Harry Potter. And he was disgusted with himself.

And how had all this come about, you ask? Why was Severus Snape feeling such emotions? It was all because Severus Snape had simply needed the toilet.

He had opened the bathroom door and there, in the middle of the room, had stood Harry Potter. A very _naked_ Harry Potter.

In those few split seconds where they had been both frozen to the spot, Severus had had just enough time to see that nature had been _very_ kind to the boy hero. His muscular legs had possessed a comforting strength and his skin had shone with utter radiance. And as for what sat, no, _dangled_ like sweet temptation between those heavenly legs…again, nature had been _very _kind indeed.

But, as always has to happen, the moment had passed and his senses had started to catch up with his brain. He'd averted his eyes as he'd muttered hurried apologies (_quite out of character, Severus!_ he remembered chiding himself), only to see the image of naked Harry in the mirror over the sink. Feeling the colour rising in his face, (_really Severus!_), he'd forced his eyes to focus on the bathroom wall whilst Harry had fastened a towel (_about bloody time!_) around his waist. And then what had the brat gone and done? Apologised! Had said sorry as if it was _his_ fault that Severus had walked in on him!

And that's why Severus Snape was lying stretched out across his bed at Grimmauld Place with his hands covering his face. He felt rather perverted to be feeling such things. After all, Potter had only just turned 17. And 17 wasn't much up from 16 really, was it? Yeah, ok, so 17 _was_ the age of consent in the wizarding world and it wasn't like what he was feeling was _illegal _or anything but…

He signed again and ran his hands over his weary face, feeling the faint lines that age had produced in him beneath his fingers.

Potter may be legally an adult now but the facts still remained that **A)** Severus was 20 years older than him, (21 to be precise), meaning he was 38 years old, rapidly approaching 40 and his mid life crisis; **B)** He was the boy's teacher – _correction_; he was the boy's _nasty old Potion's Professor_ who was despised by many (for reasons he was proud of); and **C)** The boy he wanted to be with was the one and only Harry Potter, boy-who-lived, The Chosen One, the one destined to kill the Dark Lord, the son of his enemy, the godson of his most hated enemy, the boy who was least likely to see something in his evil teacher, the boy who was probably as straight as they come; he was Harry James Potter, _Harry_ – the thorn-in-his-side, the bane-of-his-adult-existence – _Potter_.

But what annoyed Severus Snape more than anything? It was the very obvious reality that he could no longer ignore the fact that Harry was now a man; all the evidence was _there_, he'd seen it when he'd walked in on Harry in the bathroom. And Merlin help him – _hell, Godric, Rowena, Helga, and Salazar help him!_ – he _wanted_ that man. And not just for one night either. He wanted that man for eternity. He wanted to wake up next to him, hold him in his arms, whisper sweet nothings in his ear, walk down the streets hand in hand with him, to show him off to the world, to show everyone who he was in love with and who, in return, loved him. He wanted Harry Potter all to himself.

And it hurt like hell to know that he could never have him.

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Hope that was a decent beginning. I already have this story planned out so I know exaclty where I want to take it. Please Review! I will be so grateful! 


	2. T'is the Season to be Jolly

**Rating:** M 

**Warnings:** Slash, Mpreg

**Pairings:** SS/HP

**Genres:** Romance, Angst, Humour, Drama, Horror, Thriller

**Summary:** Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love.But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection- can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late?

**A/N:** This chapter is more of an informative interlude than an actual chapter, but its needed to get things moving. I promise things are going to be picking up, plot wise, in the next one.

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**Chapter Two: T'is the Season to be Jolly**

Severus woke up the next day to find his room warm from the sun falling through the large windows either side of his bed. He'd forgotten to close the curtains the previous night and his bedroom was now shining with grey light from the cold, winter sun. He groaned and freed his hand from under the pillow to run it through his long, tangled black hair before rolling over onto his side and squinting. His clock flashed 12:13pm at him.

"Shit," he cursed, throwing the bed covers off him. Everyone in the house would be downstairs already, wondering why Snape, for the first time in several years, had overslept.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. He _did_ oversleep during the Christmas and summer holidays but that was more of what he liked to call 'having a lie in'. And although it was the Christmas holidays now, he was staying at Grimmauld Place with the rest of the lovely little gang, and he hated oversleeping in the presence of others. It made him seem _human_.

He quickly pulled his clothes off and flung a fresh pair on, before straightening his hair in the mirror and making his way downstairs. The stair banister was covered in red and gold tinsel (according to that _idiot_ Black, it was supposed it be festive, but all it made Severus think about was Gryffindor) and at the foot of the stairs, next to the front door, was a huge twinkling Christmas tree. Many brightly coloured, neatly wrapped presents sat beneath its branches, awaiting Christmas day.

Christmas wasn't something that Severus liked to celebrate; celebrating the birth of someone who had existed years and years ago and doting gifts upon loved ones – it was all pointless. And he had pretty much the same view with New Year (it was just _another_ day – big deal!), Valentines Day (why the _hell_ did couples need their own day?), Easter (an excuse to eat all the chocolate one could possibly manage whilst celebrating the death and resurrection of said person who had been born at Christmas), and Halloween (don't even _start_ on Halloween!)

With a last scornful look at the Christmas tree, Severus brushed down his robes and entered the kitchen, pretending everything was normal by pointedly ignoring them all and pouring himself a glass of orange juice, (a cup of coffee would have confirmed to everyone that he _had_ only just awoken). He sat down at the end of the table and picked up _The Daily Prophet_ lazily.

"You missed breakfast," said Remus Lupin, without looking up. He was sat at the other end of the table and was studying some pieces of parchment, probably more Order business.

"I was busy," said Severus, his eyes not leaving the paper.

"I was going to come and wake you but I…"

"I was _busy_, Lupin, not asleep," he snarled.

"I was only saying," he said, eyebrow raised. "I just thought you might want something to eat, that's all."

"When I'm hungry, I'll eat," he said shortly, and it was only after that short conversation came to an end that he realised he had been staring at a colourful picture of Harry Potter in the paper for quite some time. Green eyes blinked up at him whilst Severus's eyes roamed over the page. The headline _'Potter's Prophecy'_ flashed at him.

His heart skipped a beat. _Surely they couldn't have found out what it said! And surely they were smart enough to keep it to themselves if they did?_

His eyes quickly scanned the article and little phrases jumped out at him, calming him. From what it was saying, it seemed it was yet another attempt at guessing what the prophecy said. _'Experts say this…', 'Members of the Department of Mysteries think that…"_

With a last look at the picture, he turned the page and continued his search for 'real' news. When he failed at this, he flung the paper down on the wooden table. Sirius ruffled through some sheets of parchment very noisily. Dumbledore rapped his fingers happily on the table.

Severus sighed heavily.

"Alright?" Remus asked, looking over his mug of hot chocolate.

"I'm fine!" he snapped in reply. Then, "Isn't there anything at all to do in this bloody place?"

"Well," said Remus, slightly bewildered, "You could always go for a walk?" he suggested. "Or if you've got any last minute shopping to do, there's always Diagon Alley?"

"Why would I have any last minute shopping?" he sneered. "I hope you're not expecting me to get you something."

Remus opened his mouth to respond but Sirius shook his head. Remus sighed and turned his eyes back to the parchments in front of him, knowing it was useless to say anything more. Severus turned his eyes away from the man.

He had, in fact, done all of his Christmas shopping - (just because he hated the holiday didn't mean he didn't have people to buy for). He always bought a little something for Lucius Malfoy, fellow Death Eater and old family friend. Then there was Dumbledore; the old Headmaster was like a father to him and Severus knew that that was how Dumbledore himself saw things. He had been the young man's father figure from the very first day Severus had set foot in Hogwarts so he always made a point of buying a gift for him, to show his appreciation (yes, Severus _was_ capable of showing appreciation.) And he did, occasionally, send a little something to Minerva Mcgonagall. But that was it. Severus had no intention of ever sending his real family anything – he hadn't been in contact with a single member of his direct family since he had finished school and it didn't bother him one bit. He didn't even know if they were still alive and, frankly, he didn't care. He had no happy memories of life before Hogwarts.

_Harry didn't have any happy memories of life before Hogwarts either…_

Severus pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked around the kitchen. Dumbledore was still drumming his long, jewelled fingers happily on the wooden table, humming to himself. Sirius was immersed in whatever Remus was reading, throwing occasional glares at Severus. The clock above the sink struck 12:30pm.

"I'm going for a walk," Severus announced to the table, and without waiting for a response he strode out of the kitchen.

* * *

The winter air was biting and scratching at Severus hands and face as he made his way across the snow-covered ground in the park. The cold, grey afternoon sky was clear and there wasn't a cloud in sight. Despite the time, the icy streets seemed to be deserted and only the distant sound of trucks on the main road could be heard. Severus tucked his hands into his pockets and bowed his head.

This was the sort of atmosphere he was used to at Christmas; he was no stranger to loneliness. He was used to being cold.

What he wasn't used to, however, were certain boy wizards popping in and out of his thoughts. Walking in on Harry in the shower…well, that hadn't helped with his current state of mind.

The truth was (and he hated to admit it) was that Potter and his luscious body had been distracting him for some time now. Ever since Potter had returned from the summer holidays to start his seventh year at the prestigious wizarding school, Severus had found himself thinking more and more about the boy – in ways that teachers should _never_ think about their pupils.

At first he had put it down to the lack of…_action_…he had been receiving for the past few years. Ever since the Dark Lord's return he had put his 'poor excuse for a sex life' on hold, in order to concentrate more fully on the matter at hand. He suspected that his body was simply rebelling against his mind, that it was demanding attention. And because his body felt the desire to be…_taken_…it had made him _vulnerable _(such a horrible word!) to Potter's charms, which, although he'd much rather pretend didn't exist, were there and were strong. He simply couldn't ignore the fact that Potter had grown up to be one _hell_ of a looker; and that incident in the bathroom yesterday had pretty much confirmed it.

True, Potter did still annoy the _fuck_ out of him, but Severus was finding the boy's presence easier to live with. For instance, when Potter started to act up in class, Severus would simply distract himself by secretly admiring his looks, memorising how the faint lines in the boy's youthful face would change to fit his mood.

And then Severus would remind himself that he was standing in front of a classroom full of adolescents and that it was not the time to be checking out one of his students.

And _then_ he'd remember that he was a _teacher_ and shouldn't be checking out one of his students _full stop_.

And after _that_ he would _then_ get angry with himself for looking at Potter in such a way, but by the time he was ready to yell at Potter for this or that reason, the lesson would either be over or some other student would need his help.

After that almost-daily classroom routine was done, he'd storm back to his bedroom in the dungeons and would curse himself (verbally, not magically) for looking at Potter in _that_ way. Then he'd remember why, exactly, he was looking at Potter like that and he'd mutter to himself something about 'needing to get laid'. Then he'd wonder why he hadn't been laid in years, (he'd been concentrating on The Dark Side and his role as a spy), then he'd curse some more before returning to his classroom to teach the next lesson.

It was a vicious cycle.

But all that didn't mean that he had proper feelings for Potter. Like he'd said, he just wanted sex and Potter, no matter what he thought about him, had a nice body. It was that simple. Or so he had thought up until he'd seen Harry naked. Could it be possible that he had…feelings…for Harry Potter?

"Not possible," he muttered, disgusted with himself. But before he could contemplate the matter any further, his hand shot up to grasp his arm and he clenched his teeth, inhaling sharply; The Dark Lord was calling them.

Clearing all thoughts of Potter out of his head, he sighed, braced himself, and apparated.

* * *

Harry sat on the end of his bed, watching Ron and Ginny go through a box of Bertie Botts. The wind whistled outside, rattling the windows in their frames. The WWN had announced earlier that morning that a storm was steadily making its way towards the south of England and that all through the evening they could expect howling blizzards, something which greatly annoyed Harry as he has been hoping to escape the confines of the old London house for a while.

Harry and Ron had decided to return to Grimmauld Place for the holidays. This, as trivial as it may seem, had been a tough decision for Harry to make. On one hand, this was his last year as a student and therefore was his last chance to spend Christmas at Hogwarts. The castle always looked so magical this time of year and the decorations never failed to put a smile on his face. But, on the other hand, this may well also be the last chance Harry had to spend Christmas with Sirius. Now, he wasn't being pessimistic here, he was merely being _realistic_ – soon, the war would hit breaking point and it would be time for Harry to face up to his destiny and he didn't know if he would survive or not. This had been the deciding factor for Harry and he had chosen to come home to London.

But something he hadn't taken in to consideration was Snape. He hadn't banked on his nasty professor spending the holiday at Grimmauld Place with the rest of them, but it turned out that Dumbledore, ever the good Samaritan, had invited the man himself, leaving McGonagall in charge back at school.

Now, normally Harry would have been ok with this – he was a mature adult now and he certainly wasn't going to let little matters like this spoil his time with Sirius, especially as the man had eased up on the punishments at school lately. But ever since the Christmas break had begun, Harry had had to deal with Snape's foul temper none stop. That man was never happy! Evey single day he found something to complain about; it drove him mad when the occupants of the house were making too much noise, just as it drive him mad when those same occupants weren't making any noise. He was just so difficult to please.

Harry sighed and turned to look out of the window, watching the branches of the bare trees sway in the wind. He had tried not to let Snape get to him – but at the end of the day he wasn't worth it really, was he? If the man had issues (and he certainly did!) then what concern was that of Harry's?

Harry's mind strayed back to the memory of the night before and he cringed, resting his head against the cold pane of glass that sat in the window.

Last night Harry had taken a shower before going to bed. Snape had been in a poisonous mood all day long, snapping at everyone who disturbed him or got in his way. But the moment he had walked in on Harry getting out of the shower he had _changed_. For once, Harry had witnessed a speechless Snape. The snapping teacher had stood, motionless and _blushing_, as he had taken in the sight of Harry nude – and make no mistake, Harry had _seen_ the way his eyes had moved over his body. Snape had then muttered hurried apologies and Harry, despite feeling some what mortified that he had been caught naked by his most-hated professor, had actually enjoyed watching how embarrassed Snape had become. Now _that_ was a side of Snape he had _never_ seen. How interesting…

There was a low rumble of thunder outside and Harry looked up and again out of the window. Rain was starting to fall heavily now as the storm approached. He had wondered earlier if the weather had anything to do with Voldemort – it had to be a rare thing that London saw this degree of storm that the WWN had been talking about. They were predicted thunder and lightning, heavy rain and wind, and hurricanes and blizzards; in Harry's mind, that just didn't seem to be caused by Mother Nature at all – he was convinced it was the Dark Side.

He sighed again and stretched out on his bed. Normal teenagers weren't supposed to worry about the Dark Side, about being killed in battle, about trying to save the world. But Harry wasn't normal. For starters, he was the famous Harry Potter – there's no need to explain what all that involved, right? It was common knowledge world wide what the name 'Harry Potter' meant and what it stood for.

But recently, Harry had found himself worrying about other things, less 'Harry Potter' type things. But it was still something that made him feel somewhat of an outsider. He'd started to feel confused about his sexuality.

He liked women. Or at least, he _thought_ he liked women. But he'd caught himself over the past few months eyeing up _men; _that couldn't be right, could it? For weeks now, he had put it down to hormones. He was a 17 year old boy living in a boarding school – he was bound to feel curious about the same sex at some point. It was probably just a phase.

But as he sat there, pondering this, he had to wonder whether any of the other boys in his dormitory had felt like this at some point? Had they realised they had feelings that shouldn't be there? Had they gotten over it? Passed it off as just a phase? Was it just part of growing up and realising who you were? Did they experience any kind of revulsion at the idea of being in a relationship with someone the same…

"Oi!"

A pillow hit the side of Harry's face and he looked up. Ron was looking down at him with an amused look. Ginny was no longer in the room.

"Finished day dreaming?"

"Sorry," Harry muttered, pushing himself into a sitting position. "Were you saying something?"

"Nah, not really," said Ron, "Was just wondering what you fancied doing later on. I'm going in two days, remember?"

Harry, Ron and Ginny had so far been spending the holidays together, Hermione having gone home to be with her family. But Ron and Ginny were soon to be leaving. They were going to France to meet Fleur's family with the rest of the Weasley's.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I don't know really. I can help you pack if you like?"

"Mate, I have two whole days until I have to do that. Don't you want to do anything?"

"There's not much to do really, is there?" he said, his mind elsewhere. "And the Order aren't going to let us out, especially in this…" He nodded over to the window.

"Yeah…It's not fair that, keeping you cooped up inside like some sort of – "

"Ron?" Harry interrupted, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he said, rolling onto his side and looking at Harry, "What is it?"

"It's quite personal though, so if you don't want to answer then you don't have to."

"What's wrong? Is everything ok? It's not some…_illness_ is it? Down there?"

"What? No!" Harry shook his head and Ron looked slightly relieved.

"Then what?" he asked.

"Have you ever, I mean, is it just a phase that all guys go through or, well, have you ever had certain feelings…well, not feelings as such, more an attraction to other, you know, guys?"

For a moment, Ron was silent, his face blank. Then he said, "Harry, are you trying to tell me you're gay?"

"No," he said, sitting up, "I'm not gay; or at least, I don't think I am…But I _have_ found myself sort of…_attracted_ to men recently…and I thought that maybe it was just a phase we all go through or something…Have you ever felt anything like that?"

"No," he shook head, "Not really. I've always found girls attractive; men are just men, aren't they? Like us. They've got the same bits and everything so it's not really something to look at 'cause you already know what it all looks like..."

"So you've never found yourself looking at another guy?"

"Can't say that I have," he answered.

"But have you ever wondered what it would be like to be with a guy?"

"Ew, Harry, that's disgusting!" he said, screwing up his face. "I'm not against them or anything, gays I mean, but why would I want to imagine myself with another man?"

"I don't know," he muttered, "In case you were curious or something?"

"Harry, mate, believe me; I'm straight and I'm happy being straight." He looked over at Harry. "Why? Are you curious?"

"Kind of," he admitted, "I know a handsome guy when I see one…"

"So do I, but that doesn't mean I want a cock up my ass."

"It doesn't have to be sex! Just kissing and stuff…"

"Dude, if you want advice, you're talking to the wrong guy. You know I'd help you if I could, but with this…I honestly can't mate, sorry."

"It doesn't matter," he muttered, "I expect it's just a phase or something."

"Harry, when you say you've been attracted to men recently, who exactly do you mean?"

"No one in particular," he muttered, getting up, "Just men really."

"You know," said Ron, after a moments thought, "Maybe you should talk to Sirius and Remus about it and stuff."

"Yeah," he sighed, "Yeah, maybe that'll help. But don't you know anyone straight who's felt these things?"

"Well, it's not really something people go around talking about is it?"

"I suppose you're right," he said, "Thanks for your…Argh!"

His hand shot to the scar on his forehead but as quick as the pain had come, it disappeared, leaving a nasty tingling feeling.

"What is it? I thought it wasn't supposed to hurt anymore?"

"It does sometimes," Harry said, rubbing the scar, "I think Voldemort forgets to shield his thoughts sometimes and I get a flash of them or something. It's nothing serious."

"You sure?" Ron looked worried.

"Positive," said Harry. "It's probably just a meeting or something. I know summoned one earlier; I heard Dumbledore telling the others that Snape had sent a message to him. I'm fine though."

"You sure?" he asked again, and Harry had to smile at his friend's worry.

"Yes," he said, "If it was something bad, or I could tell what was going on, then you'd be the first person I'd tell."

"Yeah well…" he muttered, "We all worry about you mate, you know? It's dead creepy how he can enter your mind and stuff…"

"You want creepy?" Harry smiled, changing the subject, "Guess who walked in on me getting out of the shower yesterday? Snape!"

* * *

**A/N:** I'm sorry I can't update more regulary (and that I haven't update my other one in like two months!) - I have my stupid A-Level exams to deal with. But they'll be over soon so I can get back to posting loads and actaully concentrate on the fics. Exams suck.


	3. Things that go Bump in the Night

**Rating: **M 

**Warnings:** Slash, Mpreg

**Pairings:** SS/HP

**Genres:** Romance, Angst, Humour, Drama, Horror, Thriller

**Summary:** Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love.But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection- can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late?

**A/N:** EXAMS ARE OVER! NO MORE COLLEGE! YAY! Anyway...I know this fic seems to be going slow but it will pick up soonish. I have a plan wirtten out and everything!

* * *

**Chapter Three: Things that go Bump in the Night**

"Do you have everything?" called Mrs Weasley to her surrounding family gathered in the hall of Grimmauld Place. "All your bags?"

"Check!" called Fred and George.

"Clothes _in_ your bags?"

"Check!"

"Cameras?"

"Check!"

"Passports?"

"Check!"

"Wands?"

"Mum, can we get going already? We're gonna miss the portkey."

"Alright, alright," she said, bustling over to the door, "But you _are_ sure you have _everything_ aren't you?"

"Mummy dearest, we're wizards," said Fred, "If we find out we have forgotten something, we can just conjure it up."

"Now, now boys, you can't go doing things like that," said Mr Weasley, bouncing over to his sons, "We'll be in France. Long-distance magic like that can be illegal."

"We could fly to France on our bloody brooms!" said Ron, "It isn't that long-distance."

"And why do we need passports anyway?" asked George, dragging his bag over to the door.

"Duh!" said Ginny, "So we can actually _get _into France."

"But couldn't someone just apparate there, or fly over?" asked Ron.

"They have Ministry members watching the skies," Mr Weasley informed them. "And do you have any idea how hard it is to apparate to another country?"

"Me and Fred managed to go from Scotland to England just fine."

"But they're both in Great Britain," Charlie pointed out, shrinking his luggage and placing it in his jacket pocket.

"Yeah," said Fred, "Just like Great Britain and France are both in _Europe_."

"Will you two just stop being awkward and get a move on," said Mrs Weasley, "We're going to miss the Portkey." She was standing in the open doorway and the gently falling snow was visible over her shoulders.

Harry was stood amongst the many shrinking suitcases, watching the commotion with amusement. The Weasley's, as Ron had said the other day, had been invited to spend the remainder of the Christmas Holiday's with Bill and Fleur and her family over in France and Mrs Weasley was adamant that they go; she had never met Fleur's family and, with the upcoming wedding, it seemed the polite thing to do, even if they weren't so fond of Fleur.

Finally, the Weasley's said their goodbyes and left the house, gathering into the awaiting taxies which would take them into London.

Harry made his way into the living room, the smile fading from his face. Fred and George and everyone had only been gone two minutes and already Harry was missing the noise. The big, old house felt so empty without them and Harry wasn't sure how he was going to spend the next week.

The remaining occupants of the ancient house were all gathered in the warm living room. Remus was stretched out across one of the sofas, his head resting comfortably in Sirius' lap. He was reading a rather large novel and was smiling fondly to himself. Sirius was reading the latest issue of _FHM_, (wizarding addition), rolling his eyes every time Remus chuckled at what he read in his novel. Snape was sat across from them and was immersed in a thick magazine simply entitled _'Potions Monthly'_ which this month featured on article written by the _'famed alchemist Gwydion Ladd'_, discussing the effects, advantages, and disadvantages of the _'Elixir of Foul Sinners.'_ Harry neither knew nor cared who or what any of this was.

Sighing to himself, he turned and headed upstairs. It was going to be a _long_ week.

* * *

Christmas came, reigned for a few hours, and then went, shortly followed a week later by New Year. Harry tried to enjoy himself and he joined in the celebrations with the rest of the house, but by the end of it all he had grown quite distant with them. It all came down to the simple fact that he really missed his friends. True, he did have a good time listening to Sirius and Remus chatting about their good old days, but all the while he couldn't help but feel somewhat of an outsider. He was of a completely different generation than the rest of them. But, no matter, he still enjoyed their company. It was sort of relaxing, not having to worry about something major for a change.

Harry was sat at the kitchen table two days into the New Year, sipping a glass of orange juice and reading the paper. Dumbledore and Remus were sat opposite, discussing goblins and dwarfs and the sides they would be taking in the war. Now that the festivities were over, talk had turned back, once again, to Voldemort and his army. So much for the New Year bringing new beginnings – life was just as dreary as ever, full of the same old dangers and insecurities as the last.

Sirius was bustling about the kitchen, trying (and failing) to cook eggs and bacon on a muggle stove – recently, for some unknown reason, Sirius had taken a liking to doing things the muggle way, something which Snape found highly amusing; and speaking of Snape, Harry and the man hadn't even made eye contact since that day the potions teacher had walked in on him in the shower. If Harry didn't know better, he'd say that Snape was _embarrassed_ about the whole incident – indeed, the man had actually _blushed_ when he'd seen Harry naked; quite un-Snape like really. But, if this was to be his last year (and lets face it, it just well might – he could be killed at any moment) he had decided to try and make friends with the nasty potions teacher – or at least exchange a civil word.

A burning smell reached Harry's nostrils and he looked up and over at Sirius. Predictably, he'd burnt breakfast.

"Sirius," said Harry with a smile, "You can't even cook _with_ magic. What makes you think you'll be any better at it by doing it the muggle way?"

"Hey," he said, hitting Harry playfully over the head with a towel, "I _can_ cook with magic!"

"You can't cook anything _edible_," Remus said, grinning.

"What about that toast I cooked yesterday?" Sirius challenged, hands on hips.

"Like I said," Remus continued, "You can't cook anything _edible_."

Looking defeated, Sirius shovelled the bits of burnt egg into the bin.

"Ok," said Sirius, cheering. "I may be crap at cooking, but I more than make up for it in other areas; right Rem?" He winked at Remus.

"Yes," he said, "Your cleaning skills _are_ a lot better."

Dumbledore chuckled into his cup of coffee at the offended look that was now plastered across Sirius' face. Harry sat back down, hiding his grin behind the newspaper. This was what Harry liked – this friendly banter. He found that nothing was more relaxing than being in this sort of environment.

Finally, when Remus and Dumbledore had returned to their previous conversation, Sirius shook his head and turned to Harry.

"So," he said, wiping his hands on his apron. "Got anything planned for today?"

"Actually," said Harry, lowering the paper slightly, "I need to talk to you about something."

"Sure. What is it?"

"Not now," said Harry, shaking his head, "Later."

Sirius opened his mouth to respond but before he could say anything there a soft thump on the window and they all looked up. An owl was hopping up and down impatiently on the window ledge outside, its fur covered in snow. Remus pointed his wand at the window and it opened. The owl flew over to Harry.

"Aw, you must be freezing," Harry said to it, taking the letter from it and laying it aside. "Pass me that bacon would you, Sirius?"

Whilst Sirius fed the tiny owl bits of burnt bacon, Harry opened the letter. He recognised Ron's writing immediately.

_Harry,_

_Oh my God. Save me!_

_Fleur's family is just a nightmare! How we're supposed to welcome this lot to the family, I'll never know! They're just a bunch of rich snobs! Well, no, actually, not all of them are. Surprisingly, her parents are alright. Her mum's a wedding dress designer (yippee) and her 'papa' works closely with the French Minister or something. But she has more than one sister! And her two younger brothers are just complete wankers! They talk dead posh and French and stuff and they think they know everything. Fred and George are already plotting ways to make them suffer._

_And they live in a bloody castle! Can you believe that? There's like 5000 bedrooms in this place! And they have their own cooks and maids and everything as well as house-elves! But that doesn't make the food any better, believe me! I thought the French were supposed to be good cooks, but all we've had is this posh crap. What I wouldn't give for a bag of good old English fish and chips! _

_Mum and Fleur's mum are getting along really well though; that's something I suppose. But this wedding is driving me insane! It's enough to make any guy go crazy! All they talk about are dresses and flowers and music and food and guests and venues – oh Merlin, the venues! Why can't they just have it in a Church and be done with it? They can't decide whether it would be better in England or France. If it's in France then they want it here at the castle; if it's in England then they want it in the countryside this coming summer with lots of lovely little flowers and fairies – I can just see them now, running hand in hand through the field… I can hardly wait - (sarcasm.)_

_But enough about my wonderful holiday. What are you up to? Have you spoken to Sirius or Remus yet? If you haven't, let me offer some advice (for whatever advice from me is worth!); if I were you and in this predicament, I'd talk to Remus. I know you're closer to Sirius and all, but he's bi isn't he? I know we don't know for certain, but I'd say that Remus is actually gay; maybe he'd be more understanding? I don't know._

_Argh, I have to go. Elroy and Jacques are calling (her younger brothers – I swear Elroy is gay! Ginny keeps joking that he keeps giving me 'the eye') – they want us to go shopping; again. How lovely. _

_Good Luck and see you soon!_

_Ron_

Harry smiled and put the letter aside, amused at his friend's discomfort. He was sure it couldn't be that bad but he felt sorry for his friend all the same. The tiny owl was now de-frosted and de-snowed and was ready to return to home, so Harry scribbled a reply down on the back, trying to respond to everything Ron had brought up, and then fastened it to the owl's leg.

"Everything OK?" asked Sirius, watching the bird fly out of the window and into the cold once more.

"Yeah," said Harry, "Just Ron complaining about Fleur's family and all."

"I feel his pain," said Sirius jokingly, nodding his head slightly.

"How can you even _relate_ to that?" asked Remus, looking up.

"I'm stuck with you aren't I?"

* * *

Severus closed the front door as quietly as he could and slipped into the dark living room. He opened the drinks cabinet and poured himself a glass of scotch, allowing himself to collapse into the awaiting armchair. He swallowed a mouthful of the liquid, grimaced at the taste, then downed the lot, setting the empty glass on the coffee table in front of him.

He had just arrived back from yet _another_ meeting with the Dark Lord and his nerves were on edge. That had been the fourth meeting this week and it worried Severus; the meetings were never this frequent and when they were it usually meant that something big was about to happen, but _what_, Severus couldn't fathom. If something was being planned, the Dark Lord was being awfully secretive about it; either that or Severus was being purposefully kept in the dark, but that was highly unlikely.

He sighed and reached for the bottle of scotch, pouring himself another.

He hated these meetings and not just because they were held by the Dark Lord. He hated them because of who attended – the other Death Eaters, namely Malfoy (who the Dark Lord had eventually broken out of Prison) and Wormtail. He, Severus, was supposed to be a good friend of Lucius' but the blonde Death Eater had begun to notice Severus' lack of interest in the Malfoy family. Why, he asked, did he spend so much of his spare time in the company of Dumbledore? Severus was forever explaining that he was a spy for their master, that he was pretending to be one of the Order members, but Lucius was becoming more and more distant and suspicious. Severus just thanked his lucky stars that the Dark Lord, at least, still seemed to believe him.

As to Wormtail, well, he just annoyed and irritated Severus to no end. He had, after all, once been a Marauder and it was their job to hate Snape.

Severus now leaned forwards and rested his elbow on his knee, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, before leaning back and crossing his ankle over his knee, his foot bobbing up and down. The sooner this war ended, the better. All the spying and lying and the blocking of his mind and projection of false images – it was all turning him into a nervous wreck!

And speaking of a nervous wreck…

He lifted his head and turned towards the door, straining his eyes to see into the dark hallway. _Why the hell hadn't he switched on a light? _But he didn't make a move to do so as he continued to peer out into the hallway, only reaching into his pocket and grasping his wand with his sweaty hand. He could have sworn he'd heard something. A car rolled by outside and the headlights shone through the hall windows, illuminating the room for a second, the light moving across the room before vanishing altogether. Nothing there; or at least, nothing he could see from where he sat.

Getting up from his chair, wand in one hand, empty glass in the other, he moved over to the door. He sensed that something (or, as was probably the case, _someone_) was hovering near the doorway, just out of range of sight in the impenetrable darkness. Knowing that it would be a bit rash of him to just fire out any old curse, he raised his wand and muttered "Lumos." The light from the wand filled half the hallway and he ventured slowly over into the bigger room, alert as always. He turned towards the kitchen and, quite suddenly, the light fell on a figure that gasped and jumped, causing Severus to stumble back in shock.

The hall filled with light as the overhead chandelier was switched on. Potter stood next to the staircase, pocketing his wand and catching his breath.

"Jesus, you gave me a fright!" he half gasped, half scowled, looking at his Potions teacher who was also pocketing his wand.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at, Potter?" he snapped. "Sneaking up on me like that! I could have killed you!"

"I highly doubt that Professor," said Harry, pulling his dressing gown around him, "Only Voldemort can kill me, remember?"

"Don't joke about things like that," he said annoyed, trying to keep his voice down at the same time. They were both silent for a few seconds, Harry staring at Snape, Severus looking around him.

"What were you doing down here at this time anyway?" Severus asked.

"Just getting a drink," Harry responded, "No crime in that is there?"

Severus scowled.

"What were _you_ doing here anyway?" asked Harry.

"I've only just arrived back," Severus told him shortly, turning to go into the living room. Harry, ever the inquisitive little brat, followed.

"From where?"

"None of your business."

"Was it a meeting?" Harry all but demanded, sickened by the thought that his teacher had constant connect with the man trying the kill everyone.

"There's no need to be so disgusted," Snape snapped, turning to face the younger man once more, "I am, after all, on _your_ side. Or are you forgetting that?"

"It's a very easy thing to forget, what with your attitude," Harry spat.

"_My_ attitude? Says the boy who is rudely questioning his teacher!"

"Teachers are there to be questioned," Harry countered.

Severus sat down with a sigh, once more pinching the bridge of his nose. "Potter," he said, trying to be patient, "Fuck off."

An audible sigh from Harry, but the boy didn't move.

"I'm only trying to help," he said, and Severus could hear the 'isn't it obvious' tone to Harry's voice.

"How in _hell_ is this helping?"

"Well if you weren't being so rude and snappy then I would have gotten round to asking you if you wanted to talk about it."

Severus lifted his head and looked up at Harry, the light from the hall falling through the door.

"Talk about _what?_"

"_It_," said Harry, sitting down on the sofa across from Severus, "The meeting. Your thoughts…feelings."

"And why would you want me to talk about that?" asked Severus, sitting up, fully alert. "So that you can see what information you can pull from it in order for you to go on another one of your little adventures? I think not."

Harry was silent for a minute and, Severus thought, looked genuinely hurt, but doing his best to hide it.

"I was only trying to help," he said again simply, but he carried on; "You look tired, frustrated. You look dead."

"Why thank you."

"I just thought that giving you the chance to talk about it would take a weight off your shoulders or something; it might get things into perspective."

"You really thought I'd want to talk about my inner most thoughts and feelings with you?" he scorned, but inside, Severus felt a tad touched. Harry, technically, had just offered him a shoulder to cry on and, deep down, Severus was grateful. But he wasn't about to show any more signs of weakness to Potter, even if it hurt him to see the hurt look on Harry's beautiful face.

"Not your inner most feelings, no," said Harry, "Just the surface, like what's bothering you and stuff."

"_Your_ offering to help is bothering me," he said, trying not to snap too hard.

"Have it your way," Harry sighed, giving up. He stood up and made for the door, stopping and looking back.

"And there was me thinking I'd actually seen a _human_ side to you that day you walked in on me in the shower," he said, before leaving the room.

The hall light was switched off and Severus was, once again, bathed in darkness.

* * *


	4. The Talk

**Rating:** M 

**Warnings:** Slash, Mpreg,

**Pairings:** SS/HP

**Genres:** Romance, Angst, Humour, Drama, Horror, Thriller

**Summary:** Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love.But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection- can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late?

**A/N:** I will update more often! I will! I will! I will update more often! I'm so sorry for the long wait. Loads of stupid stuff has been happening. I know it's anoying when a fic doesn't update for ages. Forgive me?

* * *

**Chapter Four: The Talk**

Harry lay on his stomach on the floor of his bedroom, finishing his letter to Ron. They would be returning to Hogwarts tomorrow and still Harry hadn't talked either Sirius or Remus about his recent feelings. He hated to admit it, but he felt too shy to discuss such a thing with them. He knew they wouldn't laugh at him or anything, but still – talking about your sexuality to two grown up men…it was a bit daunting and embarrassing.

He told Ron all of this and promised that, if back Hogwarts he still felt like this, he would write to Remus or Sirius for some advice. But, now that he thought about it, he really didn't know what they would be able to tell him. It was really something that Harry had to figure out on his own – you can't really be _told_ you're gay, can you?

He finished his letter and signed off, depositing it in its envelope and on his desk, ready for when Hedwig got back from hunting.

Was there really a possibility that he could be gay? It seemed so unreal, and yet…

No. He couldn't be gay. He just couldn't. He was just…curious; yes, that was it. He was _curious_. No harm in that. There was no way he was gay. He liked…women. Yeah! Women! No men for him.

But what if he was? Everyone would laugh at him and call him names and, on top of everything else that he had to deal with, he knew he wouldn't be able to take it. He didn't want to be labelled 'queer'; all he'd ever wanted was to be normal and being gay _certainly_ wasn't normal. I just wasn't…right!

But if it wasn't right than why was he actually considering if he might be gay? If it was so wrong then he shouldn't allow such a thought to enter his mind! If it was so wrong then why wasn't he disgusted with Remus and Sirius?

_Relax Harry,_ he thought to himself; _just because the idea doesn't repulse you doesn't mean you're gay. It just simply means that you aren't against other people being gay. That's all._ _It doesn't mean you are attracted to men._

_But what about Snape? _

"Ew! Where the hell did that thought come from?"

Harry shook his head and got up, moving over to his half-empty school trunk. Packing should take his mind off things.

* * *

"Everything alright Harry?" asked Sirius, dropping himself on to Harry's bed. For the passed half hour, Harry had managed to turn his room in to absolute chaos. He didn't know why he had thought that packing would help with his state of mind – if anything it had only made it worse. Books and ink bottles lay scattered haphazardly around the floor whilst homework assignments floated above his head. His clothes lay piled next to his trunk, folding themselves one by one before leaping into the air and dropping to the floor instead of into his trunk.

"No," he muttered sharply, "Everything is _not _alright. Nothing is packing itself away, half of my school books are missing, and I can't fine my Potions homework which, by the way, took me over _three hours_ to complete!"

"Whoa, calm down," said Sirius, looking at Harry, "Chill. All you need is a simple spell. I'm sure we can find it."

"Don't you think I've tried using a spell?" he snapped, indicating the floating assignments. "It's gone. Snape is going to kill me."

With that last statement, he slumped to the floor and lay his head against the side of his bed.

"Is there something wrong?" Sirius asked, slipping off the bed to join Harry.

"What a stupid question," he muttered irritably. "What do you think?"

"No, I meant something else. You did say you wanted to talk the other day. Is there something on your mind?"

"Yes," he muttered, "But I don't see how talking about it will help find my homework."

"Don't they teach you properly at that school?" Sirius asked with a small smile. "Most charms and spells depend on the caster's emotions. If you're calmed and focused the spell will work perfectly, but if your heads all over the place, well…" he trailed off, looking at the self-folding clothes that were throwing themselves everywhere. "So," he said, turning back to his Godson, "You wanna talk?"

Harry couldn't help it; he drew his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his hands, cringing. Just the thought of talking to Sirius about…such things…it was embarrassing!

"Ahh," said Sirius slowly and Harry could hear that damned smile in his tone, "So it's _those_ kind of things that are bothering you." When Harry didn't look up he nudged him slightly. "Hey, you know it's nothing to be embarrassed about right? It's completely natural."

"Natural?"

"Yeah," he said softly. "Harry, you were brought up by those damn muggles then swept off to a magical boarding school. It's not your fault that you don't understand these things."

"Things?"

"Yeah, things. Remus has said time and time again that Hogwarts should have a few classes for the benefit of the students and I – "

"Sirius, it's not that," Harry interrupted. "You really don't have to…"

"No, it's ok Harry, honestly. I was once your age so I understand what you're going through and what you're feeling."

"Well, yeah, I know that," said Harry, trying to explain, "But I need to tell you – "

"Now, there's no reason to feel embarrassed about things like this Harry. It's a time that comes in every man's life - where he starts to experience certain…changes…both physical and emotional…"

"Sirius?"

"You start to become more aware of other people, especially the way they look, and soon you feel the need to…touch them and be touched…in certain ways…"

"Touch them, Sirius?"

"But Harry, just because others around you may be doing things, that doesn't mean _you_ have to. I understand that sometimes it's best to wait for that special someone and – "

"Sirius, can I say something before you continue?"

"Of course."

"I think I'm gay."

"Oh"

"Yeah…"

"You wanna talk about it?"

"No. No, I'm cool. Thanks."

"No problem."

* * *

Harry crept down the wooden stairs later that night, heading towards the welcoming light coming from the living room. He had heard the door to Sirius and Remus' bedroom open a while ago and heard one of them go downstairs. He figured that now was the opportunity to talk to either of them.

He had been in bed for the passed hour, staring at his blank ceiling, not really tired at all. He craved to have someone to talk to, someone who would understand. He knew Sirius and Remus were there, only two doors away, but he lacked the courage to ask them for advice. He cursed himself for not continuing the conversation, however fragmented that conversation had begun. But he would be returning to school tomorrow and he would hate to go back not having discussed his 'situation' just a little.

Softly, Harry pushed open the living room door. Sirius was sitting, with his legs tucked underneath him, in the armchair by the fire. The light played on his features, making the lines on his face more pronounced. Even though Sirius had reached a healthy size and weight once more, he still hadn't fully recovered from his years in Azkaban. Harry had a nasty feeling he never would.

The years in Azkaban had cruelly taken away so much of Sirius' youth and Harry really admired the way his Godfather had done all he could to gain those lost years and get himself back on track. Before Azkaban, Sirius had been well on his way to becoming on Auror. But now, even if they did somehow manage to clear his name, the Ministry would never take him on. But Sirius never let that get to him, saying that there were far more important things to worry about. Even if his name was cleared at some point, he would be quite content working somewhere in Diagon Alley, a place that had been a place of solitude for him as a kid.

Harry was amazed at the change in Sirius. Who had once been a gaunt, depressed (and somewhat crazy) man was now a healthy, happy, and fun-loving person. To Harry he was more like a big brother than anything else.

But in late hours like these, Sirius' dreadful past seemed to catch up with him. The shadow of Azkaban always crept its way into his eyes and Harry knew it would never go away.

Harry cleared his throat as not to startle the man and made his way over to the fire place, seating himself on the floor. For a moment they both just enjoyed the other's company, relaxing in the comforting presence of each other. The fire crackled, slowing devouring the burning logs, giving off more heat.

Finally, Harry voiced what was on his mind.

"When did you realise you were bi?"

He heard Sirius shuffle in his seat, adjusting himself into a more comfortable sitting position.

"After Moony told me he was gay," he said. His voice sounded as kind as Harry had come to know to.

"Didn't you feel an attraction to another guy before that?" Harry asked.

"I suppose I did," he said, "Although I didn't realise it for what it was until I learned Remus was gay." Harry looked up and Sirius continued. "We always flirted with each other, but it had always been in a friendly, joking sort of way. When he told us all that he actually _was_ gay…I don't know really…I just liked the idea of him fancying blokes. And I knew he fancied me – he was so obvious. It took me a while to realise I had feelings for him though. I just thought they were feelings for a friend."

"How did you get together?" asked Harry, interested.

"I kissed him. One evening I just saw him sat there, on his bed, revising for a test we had the next day, and I kissed him. Of course," he said, "he already knew I was bisexual by that point – I'd sort of made a point of dating a few guys and showing them off in front of him," he laughed softly. But then it faded and he turned to look at Harry.

"You said you _think_ you're gay?"

Harry nodded. "I find men attractive. And I've sort of gone off girls. I mean, they're just…girls. And men are, you know…men." He paused. "I'm not making any sense am I?"

"Not really," he laughed. "Hey, don't worry," he added, "I know what you mean. You can see that women are attractive but you yourself aren't attracted to them?"

"Yeah, that's sort of it," said Harry. "But you're bi; you like both."

"I like Remus," said Sirius.

"But you're still bi."

"But I'm with Remus and Remus is a guy."

"But you wouldn't say 'no' to a girl?"

"If I wasn't with Remus."

"Well, yeah," he said, "We wouldn't want you to cheat on him. But you still find girls attractive?"

"Are you bi Harry?" he asked, turning round.

"No!" said Harry, a little too quickly, "At least, I don't think I am. Argh, I'm sorry I'm being so confusing."

"You have a right to," Sirius said with a smile. "Not everything has to be straight forward in life."

"Nothing is ever straight forward for me," Harry grumbled. "Hell, I'm not even straight! God! I feel so…vulnerable. I don't even know myself. I honestly couldn't tell you what I'm feeling."

"You don't have to," he said kindly, pushing himself off the chair and joining Harry on the rug. "Don't try and force yourself to come to a decision. You'll figure it all out in time. You don't even need to think about it. Just let yourself be…you. It will all come naturally. And in the mean time, just enjoy the ride."

"How can I enjoy it if I don't know what it is that I want? I don't want to be in a relationship with a girl and suddenly realise that I want to be with a man. I don't want to hurt anybody."

"Sweetie," said Sirius, bushing a hand through Harry's hair, "You're too nice for your own good, you know that?"

Harry smiled weakly before Sirius continued.

"Sometimes, and I now this sounds harsh, but sometimes you have to hurt others to be happy yourself. It may sound selfish but what would you really want to do? Stay in a relationship with a person you weren't attracted to? Or tell them the truth so you can be yourself? You'd be living a lie. Trust me, in cases like this it's better to be honest. They'd get over it eventually. They may even thank you for not leading them along."

Harry sighed deeply. "I suppose you're right," he said, leaning his head against Sirius' shoulder. "It's still hard though."

They sat side by side, letting the silence echo around them. Harry's head, although reeling, was starting to process things it hadn't processed before. Things seemed to be taking some form of order now and were starting to make some sort of sense. The things he had been feeling…

"Do you fancy someone Harry?"

"Me?"

"Your name's Harry isn't it?" he smiled.

"Oh, well, erm…I hadn't really thought about it…I guess it's just men in general…Why? Am I supposed to fancy someone?"

"Well, it _would_ be a good start," Sirius laughed. "At least then it would be easier. Isn't there anyone? Anyone at all? You must be attracted to _someone_."

"Well…it's really no one in particular," said Harry, thinking of all the men he knew and trying to not let his mind think of _that_ one in particular, "Just…well, I know which men I find attractive…but I don't really fancy them. Or like…I feel that I'm attracted to them but I don't know why…"

"Like?" Sirius prompted.

"Like…some guys I know."

"And these guys' names are…?"

"It's late," said Harry, getting up and briefly looking at the clock. "I have to be up early to get the train…" Besides, Harry didn't want to have to think about who he 'fancied' – there was no reason for him to like this person…his mind just seemed to be teasing him.

"Harry! We were just getting to the juicy stuff!"

"…night Sirius…"

"G'night Potter," he called out, resigned.

* * *

Harry dropped his dressing gown to the floor and climbed into bed, snuggling deep into his sheets. He was immensely glad of his talk with Sirius. In fact, it seemed ridicules to have been so embarrassed about it before. Sirius was so easy to talk to. He never made Harry feel uncomfortable and always seemed to put a light spin on things when they got too serious. Like when he had asked who Harry had fancied…

But that was something that Harry, no matter how much he loved and trusted his Godfather, was not prepared to discuss, divulge, or disclose in any way, shape, or form.

There was only one thing that was more daunting than realising you were gay. And that was realising that you had a crush on Professor Severus Snape for no reason whatsoever.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry that was so short; they'll be getting longer, I promise. I just can't decide how fast this should be moving so I've been going over it alot. I have the last few chapters already written out and donw - it's just getting there that I can't decide on. I think it was going too slow, so I sped things up a bit. And now I'm not sure. Anyways, you'll find out over the next few chapters the pace I chose. Hope its ok.

Review? Pretty please?


	5. What I Like About Professor Snape

**Rating:** M

**Warnings:** Slash, Mpreg,

**Pairings:** SS/HP

**Genres:** Romance, Angst, Drama, Horror, Thriller

**Summary:** Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love.But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection- can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late?

**XXXXX (It wont let me do the page break thingy! 'Tis being nasty.)**

**Chapter Five: What I like About Professor Snape**

Harry skipped down to breakfast the morning of his return to Hogwarts and joined Sirius and Remus in the kitchen, noticing, with relief, that Remus was doing the cooking. A nice, tasty aroma hung in the air, alerting Harry's stomach to the delicious food that was being prepared.

"Got all your things ready?" asked Sirius, watching Harry sit down opposite. Harry nodded.

"Done all your homework?" he asked. Harry nodded again.

"_Found_ all your homework?"

"It's all done, found, and packed away nice and safely," Harry confirmed, reaching for the jug of pumpkin juice. He poured himself a glass and took a mouthful.

"Dumbledore wants a word with you when you get back to school," Remus informed him, dropping two sausages onto Harry's plate.

"What about?" asked Harry; surely if the Headmaster wanted to talk to him he could have done it in the holidays.

"He didn't say," he said, now putting a few slices of bacon in front of Harry, "Just that it was something about training."

"You don't think it'll be Occlumency again, do you?"

"I honestly couldn't tell you Harry," he said. "It's definitely something about the war though."

"Maybe he'll be teaching you some stuff," suggested Sirius through mouthfuls of food. "You need to know stuff if you're gonna kill Voldemort. Personally, I don't see why you can't just attack him with some of those muggle weapons."

"Muggle weapons?" Harry looked at Remus then back to his Godfather.

"Yeah, what they called? Those metal things…guns!"

"But Voldemort's so powerful," said Harry, "I'm sure a gun wouldn't be able to kill him. He's a lot smarter than that."

"But think about it," he carried on, taking another bite of his food, "Old Voldemort's going to be on guard all the time, expecting some sort of magical attack on him. The last thing he's gonna be expecting is to be attacked in the muggle way! Bit ironic really; to be killed by a muggle weapon after he's spent all these years killing muggles themselves."

With a last look at Remus, Harry rolled his eyes and returned his attention back to his breakfast.

**XXXXX**

Harry arrived via the floo network in Mcgonagall's office, coughing and slightly disorientated. His trunk, which Sirius had pushed through ahead of Harry, was sat on the floor waiting for him. He greeted his Transfiguration teacher before shrinking the trunk and putting it in his pocket.

He missed Sirius' company already (even if his Godfather did seem to be going a bit senile, what with his newly developed muggle obsession and all) but he was glad to be back at Hogwarts; it meant he could see his friends again. But that would have to wait as he had an appointment with the Headmaster.

He hurried out of Mcgonagall' office and headed towards Dumbledore's, wondering all the while what he could have to say to Harry that he couldn't have said back at Grimmauld Place over Christmas and New Year. It must be some recent idea of his, or else something he didn't want to risk saying in front of Harry's Godfather; Sirius could be so very protective of him sometimes and Harry knew it best for others to avoid arguments with him, especially if the topic concerned Harry in someway.

He reached the familiar gargoyle statue and gave it the password so he was able to step forward onto the spiral staircase. Once at the top, he knocked on the door and entered.

Dumbledore's office was the same as ever, although he did seem to keep adding little bits and bobs to his collection of entirely useless thingamajigs. The many portraits were dozing, as was usually the case, in their frames. Fawkes was no where to be seen.

The Headmaster himself was sat at his desk and he smiled and gestured for Harry to sit down, which Harry did.

"I suppose you're wondering why I called you here to discuss matters and not at Grimmauld Place," he said with a smile, pushing a few papers aside and looking at Harry. Harry nodded.

"Well," continued Dumbledore, "I simply thought that it would be better to have Sirius out of the way when discussing Professor Snape."

"Snape? I'm not having more lessons with him am I? I've got the Occlumency under control, I swear."

This was sort of true. Hermione had been pressuring him to at least _try_ and clear his mind and Harry, in secret, had been making sure he did just that. He was fairly confident that his thoughts were more or less unreadable.

"But not entirely," smiled Dumbledore, "As I am receiving bits and pieces from you as we speak."

Harry sulked. "Professor, please. I really don't want Snape invading my thoughts again. It's not pleasant." _And I don't want him to know what I think_, he added silently.

"I know," Dumbledore chuckled, "And rest assured that that is not what I am proposing here."

Relief. "Then what is it Professor?" he asked.

"Severus has agreed, although with some persuasion I might add, to train you up for the final battle. This will cover a range of areas, physically and magically. He will teach you spells that no teacher would ever be allowed to teach a student; he'll go over numerous strategies, ways to defend yourself, ways to attack, ways to manoeuvre, and so on. Of course, if you ask him politely, he may help to further your skills at Occlumency if you wish it."

"I think I'll pass on that," said Harry. Then; "What sort of spells will they be? Dark magic?"

"Some," said Dumbledore, but then he grew ominous. "But let me warn you here; once people have dabbled in dark magic, they find it immensely difficult to leave behind. Many good wizards have become obsessed with the mere idea of doing dark deeds; their minds are that clouded. It is through this kind of magic that wizards realise the extent of their powers."

"But then why am I going to be learning it?" he asked; _and from Snape of all people? _he thought.

"Because I believe that your will to do _good_ in this war will overpower the lure of the dark magic. Do as Severus instructs and I believe that all will go well."

**XXXXX**

"Oh Harry, it's so good to see you again!"

As soon as Harry entered the Gryffindor common room he found himself with an arm-full of Hermione. Ron was seated over on the couch next to Ginny, both grinning at him as he struggled to extricate himself from Hermione and join them.

"It's good to see you too Hermione," he said, finally freeing himself and taking a seat in the armchair. "Have a nice Christmas?"

"Yes, thank you, it was rather nice," she said, sitting down next to Ron. "It was a big family thing so I got to see all my aunts and uncles and cousins again. What about you?"

"Yeah, it was ok," he said, "Quiet, but good."

"And how're Sirius and Remus?" she asked.

"Same as ever," he told her, "Although Sirius _has_ developed a fondness of all things muggle."

"He's turning into Dad," Ron commented. "He'll start collecting plugs next, you just watch."

Harry laughed. "What about your summer? How was France?"

"Don't even ask," he mumbled.

"It wasn't that bad," said Ginny fairly, "Fleur's brothers and sisters were just a bit too much, that was all really."

"A bit too much? Ginny, were you hanging around with the same people I was? They were nightmares! I lost count of the number of times they told us the history of their family! Did you know that, back in the late 1600's, their great-great-great-great-whatever-great grandfather was the ruler of some town in some place that doesn't even exist anymore? Argh! And do you know how much _useless_ information like _that_ has been _thrown _at me all Chistmas?"

"So you had a good time I take it?" Hermione smiled, as Harry and Ginny laughed.

**XXXXX**

Harry easily got back into the swing of things, lesson wise, but by the end of the week he was so loaded down with homework and coursework that he really wished it were still the Christmas holidays. Mcgonagall had piled it all on, and Harry cringed every time he thought of the amount of Charms homework he had.

But he had no time to worry himself over all this. He had these lessons with Snape to worry about. Ron (surprisingly) and Hermione thought it an excellent idea of Dumbledore's to set up these lessons as they could only help Harry, but Harry thought differently. No matter how hard Harry tried to kid himself, he knew that his Occlumency skills weren't up to scratch – not by a long shot. What if Snape managed to see into Harry's mind when the boy was concentrating on other areas of their studies? What if he saw Harry's worries over his sexuality? And worse – what if he deduced from the thoughts he may pull from Harry's mind that there was a _tiny, microscopic, inexplicable_ attraction lurking beneath the surface that the boy felt towards his nasty teacher? What then?

But that was something else, wasn't it? _Why _was Harry attracted to Snape? He had never felt any sort of amicable emotion towards the man, so why did he suddenly find him attractive? It wasn't his personality he was attracted to, that was for sure! And the hooked nose and greasy hair weren't exactly something Harry looked for in a partner. Perhaps if he made a list of things he liked about him he'd be able to figure it out?

Harry had decided to take Sirius' advice and just let things run its course. He tried not to think about whether or not he was gay. If he just went with the flow then, as Sirius had said, everything should sort its self out and fall into place. He had too much on his mind to let this worry him so much. But spending the evening with Snape wasn't something he had banked on.

It was with a heavy heart that Harry made his way down to Snape's rooms for his first lesson. The dungeon corridors were just as dark, dank, and depressing as ever and his footfalls echoed ominously around the deserted passage. He knocked on the door, listened, and entered.

When he noticed his surroundings he had to admit he was pleasantly shocked. He'd been expecting a gloomy, damp room full of black and green furniture placed around the room in an orderly manor with not a thing out of place, but what he found made him wonder if he had walked into someone else's rooms. True, many of the items of furniture in the room were black, but it had such a warm, homely feel to it. It looked more like some library in a rich, manor house, yet Harry could imagine himself relaxing comfortably across the large sofa that sat facing the modern fireplace. The various books and ornaments scattered about the room gave off a very 'lived in' feel; it was the picture of comfort. But then, Harry reasoned, it made sense for him to have a room like this – after all, he'd spent years living in it; he needed something comfortable.

_Reasons why I like Professor Snape, number one, _he thought to himself_ – he never ceases to amaze._

"I believe Dumbledore has already explained what we are going to be doing," came Snape's voice from across the room.

"Briefly," said Harry.

"And he told you of the effects dabbling in the dark arts can have?"

Harry nodded.

"Good, that gives me one less thing to do." He went over to the large polished table and picked up a book which he then placed neatly on a shelf, out of the way.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking…" Harry started, then stopped, looking over at Snape to see if he would allow him to continue. He did.

"Why are you agreeing to do this? Why are you helping me?"

Snape stood still, leaning against the table, his arms folded across his chest. It was such a human gesture. In this silence that had descended, Harry had time to admire Snape's attire. Although he was dressed in the usual black robes, the few tops buttons were undone and a black silk shirt could be seen, just hiding underneath.

_That was reason number two right there_, Harry listed in his head; _The way he dresses – it's so casual yet creates a sense of mystery…like there's more to this man than meets the eye. _

"I'm not helping you, I'm helping myself," he responded at last; it wasn't said coldly or scornfully. It was just _said_.

"How so?" asked Harry, wondering if he was pushing it.

"The sooner you kill the Dark Lord, the sooner I will be free of him," he said simply.

"You think I'm going to kill him sir?"

"I think you're capable of it." High praise indeed.

After that, Snape refused to elaborate more and pushed on with the training. They went over many spells Harry had learnt in class over the years, practising the none-verbal side of things, which Harry managed pretty easily. What wasn't easy, however, was when Snape suggested (or ordered) that they face one another in a duel; Snape was just far too quick for him; although Harry managed to block the attacks, he wasn't able to fire any back, he was so busy defending himself.

After 2 hours of tough training, Snape called it a day. Harry was thankful that they hadn't discussed the dark magic that Snape would eventually be teaching him – he felt quite nervous when he thought about it; what if Dumbledore was wrong and he couldn't resist the temptation?

But he didn't want to think about that just now; he couldn't. His mind was full of his first lesson with Snape – it had gone so well. Harry would even go as far as to say that he'd actually enjoyed it. And Snape had actually been helpful as well. He'd corrected Harry when he had gotten something wrong, whether it be with his duelling stance or the wording of a spell. He'd even enjoyed Snape's company. Of course, he would never admit it though.

_Reason number three – he can be quite a decent person when he wants to be. _

**XXXXX**

Severus lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, slighting agitated. He was lay on top of his white, silk, duvet cover rather than under it, loving the feel of it beneath his skin, revelling in the warmth the fire was giving off.

He couldn't clear his mind of Potter, no matter how hard he tried. He'd tried to make himself think about lesson plans, about the far-off summer holidays, about breakfast – but it all led to Harry. After almost four months of lying to himself, he was finally ready to admit he had a – dare he say it? – _crush_ on Potter. At least, he'd admit it to _himself_. _That_ information was going no further!

The fact was, Harry Potter fascinated him. He really was an extraordinary person. He'd been through so much in his short life and he was still here, ready for anything. He loved a challenge. He loved to annoy Severus. He was capable of being such a passionate individual, yet he was getting better at keeping his emotions in check; that wasn't to say that Harry had turned into a cold being – far from it in fact. His emotions were always there, hovering below the surface. Severus felt he understood Harry, even though they were entirely different people. Harry was everything Severus liked in a man (although, to this day, Severus had never been with _anyone _like Harry). But he really was Severus' ideal partner, the partner he'd always dreamed of and craved; the partner he had never_ let_ himself have.

And there was no ignoring Harry's good looks. That, to, played a part in the desire Severus felt. It wasn't hard for him to remember what Harry had looked like in that bathroom – Harry's body was the very definition of gorgeous, luscious, beautiful…

God, how he wanted Harry! And not just for sex either. He wanted his heart, soul, and body. He wanted to lie in those arms and be kissed; he wanted those lips to say that they loved him and would never leave him; he wanted to lie in bed and simply cuddle up to Harry's warm body, to listen to the soft heart beat, to the breathing. He wanted to make love to him. To have and to hold…

Severus groaned inwardly and kicked his way under the bed sheets, burying his head deep within the warmth, as if hiding would somehow shield him from reality.

Because in reality, Harry wouldn't even consider the possibility of being with him, even if Severus was the last man on Earth.

**XXXXX**

**A/N 1:** The romance will be kicking off in this shortly! Yay!

**A/N 2:** I have had a few (angry, lol) messages from quite a few of you asking me to update my other fic. I know I have left it far too long and I'm sorry - I am honestly trying to work on that one and I promise I wont leave it unfinished. But I seemed to have developed a bit of an obsession with anything involving Harry and Severus so my heart really isn't into the other one just now. But I WILL update it sometime soon. I really appriciate you guys sticking with me on that one. xxx

Thank you all for reviewing! You guys rock, as always!


	6. Too Many 'Screaming Devils'

**Rating:** M

**Warnings:** Slash, Mpreg

**Pairings:** SS/HP

**Genres:** Romance, Angst, Drama, Horror, Thriller

**Summary:** Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love.But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection- can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late?

**A/N:** Hooray for my longest chapter yet! Woo! 'Tis in celebration of **_ME GETTING INTO UNIVERSITY!_** All that long, hard revision paid off! Anyway...I have to warn you here, this chapter is a bit OOC-ness. I did try to keep people to how I think they would act, but certain circumstances required that they had to change a little.

**(Pretend there's a page break here. That line-break thing still isn't working!)**

**Chapter Five: Too Many 'Screaming Devils'**

One month into the new year and Severus was already on edge.

Severus slammed the staff room door shut and took up his usual seat, in the far corner beside the ancient bookshelf. He put his elbow on the armrest and rested his head in his hand. He took a deep, silent breath and closed his eyes against the world, content with just listening to the goings-on in the room around him. There was the general mummer of fragmented conversation as the teachers discussed how their days had been and what they had planned for the weekend.

At one point, Severus had loved to join in with the discussions of the days events, complaining about this or that student and the incompetence that came with them. But nowadays he didn't enjoy it as much. Ever since this attraction to Potter had begun to form, this kind of talk only reminded him of how old he was and how far apart he was from the world of being a student. Make no mistake, he loved (well, not _loved_ – but he _was_ very fond of) being a teacher – it was one of the better things that life had given to him; but what he didn't like was being classed with the other teachers. They were so very traditional and, well, _old_. Most of them were either married, widowed, or divorced. And he, Severus, was still single, hadn't had a proper relationship for Merlin knows how long, and would probably end up dying alone with no one none the wiser.

It wasn't that he wanted to get married. I mean, please! Marriage was just so over-rated. Who wants to be tied down to the same person for life? Who wants to makes all those stupid promises they can't keep? No, what Severus wanted was someone to love and someone to love him…marriage need not be discussed. They would be together, but would have the freedom to be with others every once in a while when things got too much. He didn't need to produce a family either. He'd spent his life around children and they were enough to put anyone off having their own bunch of kids for life.

Well, that _would _have been what Severus would have normally thought…_had he not fallen for Harry Potter._ Because with Harry he was able to imagine himself doing all sorts of things he would never have allowed himself to do in the past. When he thought of Harry he _wanted _to get married, he _wanted_ to promise to love him forever, to be faithful forever. Hell, he could even see himself with a child of his own! If Harry Potter managed to bring out all these feelings in him then, damn it, he really must be in love with the boy! Or something must be seriously wrong with him. He wasn't sure which option he believed more.

Maybe Severus was under some sort of spell…maybe he had been bewitched to fall in love with Harry…

He sighed again and opened his eyes. Dumbledore was sat at the large table, smiling over at him in that annoying way of him.

"First years?" he asked knowingly. It was common knowledge for the teachers to know that Severus _hated_ teaching first years – he always had. They were so uneducated and annoying and so oblivious to the fact that they were so uneducated and annoying.

Severus nodded to Dumbledore before sitting up. "And I have Potter to deal with this evening," he said. "That's just the icing on the cake really, isn't it? First years and Potter."

"Nonsense," smiled Dumbledore joyfully. "It'll be good for you, spending time with young Harry. You might actually get to know each other and be _friendly_ towards each other for a change."

"So that's your plan is it?" said Severus, "Throw me and Potter in a room for two hours and see what happens? See if he can turn me into a better person? Well I'm sorry old man, but if you think I'm going to even _try_ to be civil to that boy then you're sadly mistaken."

"We'll see," said Dumbledore. "Harry's good nature will have its influence on you yet, you mark my words."

"Are you implying that I'm a bad person, Albus? That I perhaps need to change who I am?"

"Not who you are Severus, never. I am quite fond of you. I was merely _suggesting_ that _maybe _you could…lighten up a little more, maybe exchange a few amicable words with your students every now and then."

"The day that happens," said Severus, pulling a copy of _The Evening Prophet_ towards him, "Will be the day Giants and Merpeople mate with each other."

**XXXXX**

Harry dropped onto the bench and pulled off his muddy Quidditch boots as his team mates hit the showers. For the first time in quite a while, Harry was very confident that practice had gone well. They hadn't had the slightest mishap during the last hour and the team was very enthusiastic about the upcoming match against Ravenclaw.

He smiled to himself as he pulled off his robes – even his upcoming lesson with Snape couldn't kill his mood. The air had felt so fresh against his face as he had been flying top-speed against the wind, feeling almost weightless, as if the wind itself was holding him up and gravity didn't matter. He loved flying.

He continued to undress, noticing a magazine that lay on the bench beside him. It was Ginny's latest copy of 'Witch Weekly' and on the cover was a picture of a cute, young man of about 20, with long brown hair and dazzling blue eyes. He smiled and winked up at Harry, who realised what he was doing and pulled his eyes away from the picture.

A commotion was coming from the showers and Harry got up and made his way over. Ginny and Katie were in the middle of a water fight with the two beaters, whilst Ron was hid in a cubicle.

"Come on, no messing," he said, "We have to keep the showers clean or Madam Hooch will skin me alive."

"Yes boss," said Jimmy, continuing with the water fight.

Harry sighed and laughed to himself, pulling off his clothes and turning his own shower on. Yes, he was quite confident they were going to win this year. And winning was a lot to him now, especially as this was his last year. He'd love to leave with Gryffindor victorious.

"Hey, Harry," said Ron's voice. He looked round to see Ron was in the cubicle next to him. "You with Snape tonight?"

"Yeah," he said, washing his underarms, "Why?"

"What time until?"

"10," he answered.

"Damn!"

"Why?" Harry asked again.

"Well, there's this new club that's just opened in Hogsmeade and me and Dean and everyone were thinking of going. But I'm not going if you're not going."

"Ron," he laughed, "You can go without me, its fine. Besides, you're a big boy now. I'm sure you'll be alright."

"But I don't want to leave you with Snape," he said. "We can go tomorrow night instead. Oh, no, but Dean can't go tomorrow…"

"Seriously, it's ok. You can go."

"But I don't want to. I'd feel dead guilty."

"Tell you what," said Harry, rinsing his flannel, "I'll ask Snape if I can change my lesson to tomorrow."

"You really think he's gonna say 'yes'?" Ron asked doubtfully.

"He might," shrugged Harry, "But if he say's 'no' just go without me. Honestly, I won't hold some kind of grudge against you."

"Well, if you're sure…but only if you're sure!"

"I'm sure," he smiled. "And if he doesn't let me then I guess I could always skip it."

"I don't want you getting into trouble Harry!"

"I'm used to it," he said with a smile. "We'll just have to make sure we don't get caught."

"Us? Caught? We're always careful," said Ron with a smile.

"And speaking of careful," said Harry with a grin, "Make sure you and Hermione don't get too drunk. Remember last time when you guys ended up in the Transfiguration classroom?"

"Yeah, well," Ron smiled fondly, "We may have got detention for two weeks, but it was the best sex ever."

Harry laughed and shut off the shower before reaching for the towel. To a certain degree, he was actually looking forward to asking Snape if he could change his lesson – he loved to annoy Snape and watch the reaction, even if it almost always resulted in earning himself a detention. But there was another part of him (the irrational part) that wanted to stay and spend the evening with his nasty professor.

Harry had to try and convince himself for the rest of the day that a night out _was _something he wanted. Really.

**XXXXX**

Harry took a deep breath and knocked on Snape's door, a half hour earlier than his lesson began. Ron was hid behind a wall next to the door, as were Dean and Seamus, egging him on. He had it all planned out. He would ask nicely if he could perhaps change his lesson and have it Saturday night instead of Friday. Surely his teacher had work that needed marking? And surely he could do with a nice, relaxing break after such a hard days work?

Besides, reason number three of '_Why I like Professor Snape'_ was that _'he can be quite a decent person when he wants to be'._

He heard Snape call 'enter' and Harry opened the door and stepped in, leaving the door open behind him. Snape was sat at the large wooden desk and was, Harry noticed, surrounded by student essays.

"You're early," he said, not even looking up from his work.

"Yeah," he said, "About that…I wanted to ask you something."

Snape stopped what he was doing and looked at Harry. "Yes?" he asked.

"Well, I was wondering whether it would be possible for us to have this lesson tomorrow night instead of tonight sir? I can see you have lots of marking to get through and I thought that after a day's work you might want your Friday nights to relax."

Snape smirked and lowered his quill. "I can do just as much marking tomorrow night as I could tonight Potter," he said, "And I don't need to relax."

"Oh."

"Why is it that you want to miss tonight's lesson Potter?" he asked, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair, "The _real_ reason? And don't bother lying; you aren't _that_ skilled at Occlumency"

Harry heard the others quietly shuffling about in the hallway behind him so he took a step forward to address his professor, trying to forget his friends were there.

"Professor," he said, looking at the ground, "I know this is a stupid thing to ask…and I _do_ respect you for giving up your evenings to teach me but…I haven't really been _out_ in a while and, well, there's this new place that's just opened in Hogsmeade…the rest of the guys in my dormitory are going…and you're only 17 once, and I thought it'd be good to get out a bit, you know? Enjoy myself, stop worrying about Voldemort and all that…"

Snape considered him silently for a moment and Harry was sure he was going to say 'no'. In truth, a large part of him wanted him to say 'no'. He couldn't explain why – most teenagers would jump at the chance to have a night out with their mates rather than staying in with their teacher – but Harry wasn't 'most teenagers' and he felt just a little bit compelled to stay…

_A night out will be good for me_, he reminded himself. _I need to forget about Snape._

"Mr Potter, these lessons are designed to help you win this war. I am giving up my evenings to put up with you for two hours more than any human being should have to. And you want me to let you go out partying all night?"

"I know it's a lot to ask Professor," he said, "And I _am_ grateful for your help. Really, I am. It's just I never really get to do anything anymore. I've always got to be in the castle, preparing myself for the battle. Please Professor Snape, just this once. Please?"

Snape's mouth twitched and he looked away, picking up the quill and continuing his work. He didn't say anything.

Harry turned round slowly but when he reached the door, Snape spoke.

"I want you here an hour early tomorrow night Potter, at exactly 7pm. This is the only time I will be making allowances so don't even think about asking me to change the lesson again, is that understood?"

"Yes Professor, I understand. Thank you so much!"

_That's another reason to add to my list – number four; he _does_ have a heart after all._

**XXXXX**

Severus put his quill down and looked up when Harry closed the door behind him.

Had that just happened? Had he just _let_ Harry go out partying?

_Well now – you _do _have it bad, don't you Snape?_

Severus scowled at himself and got up from his desk in favour of striding over to his drinks cabinet and grabbing an empty glass. Why had he just agreed to let Harry go out?

_Because you want him to be happy._

Scowling again, he filled his glass with brandy and slumped onto his sofa, hating himself. If he wasn't careful, Harry was going to start thinking he was a pushover! Severus couldn't start letting his feelings get in the way – they would ruin everything. After all, he had a reputation to uphold and letting students go out partying when they had other commitments certainly wasn't the way to go.

_It's only one night_, Severus reasoned with himself. _What's one night? He'll come back tomorrow and I'll just be as tough as ever – he won't know what's hit him._

He down the contents of the glass and set it on the table in front of him before running his hands through his hair. Ok. So he'd let Harry go because he'd asked nicely. Big deal! Harry had been through a lot – he deserved a chance to unwind with his friends at the weekend. So what if Harry was out partying, meeting new people whilst Severus was stuck in here, on his own...so what?

And so what if Harry got off with some bimbo of a girl? He was entitled to, wasn't he? Severus certainly had no hold on him. He could get off with the entire club for all he cared. What was it to Severus?

_You shouldn't have let him go!_

"Shut up!" he snapped into the silence. _Harry deserves to be happy. If he wants to go then he can go. No skin off my nose. _

He quickly downed another glass of brandy.

He sighed, stretching his long legs in front of him before bringing them up onto the sofa and laying down. At least he had a free evening. He could get all his work done now.

**XXXXX**

Later that evening, Severus was to be found slumped in his chair, staring at the pile of essays stacked on his desk, drumming his long fingers absently on the wooden surface. The room was lit with only a few candles as he had not bothered to light the large overhead candelabra. A few empty bottles lay littered on the sofa and on the floor beneath his desk.

Harry had been gone for three hours, Severus' liquor cabinet was considerably emptier than it had been in quite a while, and none of the essays had been marked.

Severus hated himself.

His muggle father had been a drunk. There were too many times to count in Severus' childhood where the older man had turned to drink to solve his problems. Severus had been fool enough each summer to hope that things would be better at home – that his father had given up drinking and that his mother was safe. Each summer he had been disappointed.

Severus had seen what drinking could do to a person. He had seen what it could do to those around that person and how it could affect everything, from relationships and jobs to money and safety. Severus had learnt at a very young age that alcohol was _not_ the solution to anything.

Now older, Severus understood that alcohol wasn't entirely to blame for his fathers behaviour. The man had been a violent creature without the aid of drink. Nevertheless, Severus hated drinking in large quantities and had vowed never to do it.

This was now the third time in his life that he had broken that vow.

But Harry had made him do it. Or, more truthfully, the _idea _of Harry out there, dancing with God knows who, doing Merlin knows what…sure, the boy was good looking, but he was also incredibly famous and people were sure to take advantage of him. No one was good enough for Harry. They didn't deserve to even know him.

But Harry was young, stupid, and naïve. People tended to forget that Harry Potter, too, was a seventeen year old boy and seventeen year old boys were generally controlled by their hormones.

_Yep_, thought Severus, taking a sip out of the almost empty bottle of whatever-it-was-he-was-now-drinking, _people were going to be all over Potter, eyeing him up, eager for a taste…_

Severus slammed his bottle down and stood up so fast that he had to sit down again until his head had stopped spinning. Once he felt it was safe to try again, he grabbed his cloak off the back of his chair and threw it over his shoulders. No one was going to touch his Harry.

"I saw him first!"

_Jealousy does not become you, Severus Snape._

**XXXXX**

"Why do you think Snape let me go?" asked Harry as they joined the queue waiting to be admitted into the new club, '_Guilty'_. Three men in dark suits were stood outside the doors, checking identification; it was very obvious to Harry that quite a few of the people queuing amongst them were under the age of 17. Lavender and Parvati were stood looking them, laughing. Music was pounding out through the open double doors, accompanied by flashing neon lights.

"No idea," said Ron, "But lets just be thankful he did."

"This place is pretty crowded," smiled Dean, standing on tip toe to look over at the door. "Excellent!"

"Did he seem angry Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Snape? Nah, not really. He didn't really seem that…"

"Harry? Harry Potter? _The_ Harry Potter?"

They all looked around to see that one of the bouncers was staring at them with a look of awe on his face. Naturally, his name being called out attracted attention from the waiting people and they all turned to get a glimpse of their boy hero. As always happened, their eyes found the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Erm…" said Harry, not sure what to say.

"Yup, this is him!" said Lavender, smiling, "Harry Potter. The One and Only!"

"Wow," said the man, pulling off one of his gloves. "It's such an honour to meet you sir." They shook hands. "My name's Steve."

"Erm, I'm…Harry," said Harry lamely, making Neville laugh.

"Please, come this way," said Steve, looking around at all of Harry's friends and gesturing towards the door behind him. "You can all get in, free of charge."

"Oh, no," started Harry, "You don't have to." But his words were drowned out by Dean, who said "Lead the way!" with much enthusiasm.

Once they were all in, they all thanked the bouncer and made their way over to the bar, which was lit in neon blue lights. Harry didn't like being treated differently like that but his friends didn't seem to notice so he left it at that.

"Right," said Seamus, turning to them all, "Since Harry got us all in for free, the first round is on me! What do you all want?"

"You don't have to do that," said Ron, digging into his pocket.

"Nah, it's ok," Seamus reassured him, "It's two-for-one anyway because it's opening night. So, what you all having?"

"Oh, I'll have a _Sex on the Beach_ please," said Hermione.

"Afraid you can't do that Hermione," said Dean with a smile, "Most wizards have never heard of muggle drinks. You're gonna have to get a wizard drink."

"Oh," she said, "Well, what's the wizarding equivalent of a _Sex on the Beach?_"

"A _Devil's Whore_," smiled Seamus. "So," he said, "Hermione's a _Devil's Whore_," (she mock-glared at him) "What are the other lovely ladies having?"

"I'll have a _Rocky Dream_," said Parvati, who was already dancing in time with the music.

"Same here," said Lavender. "We'll meet you over there by that table." And they both went off through the crowd.

"Nev?"

"I'll have what those two had," he said, looking after Parvati and Lavender.

"Ron?" asked Seamus.

"Erm…" he said, running his finger down the cocktail menu on the bar, "Give me a…_Lemon Lightning_ please. What about you Harry?"

"I'll just have a _Butterbeer_ thanks," he said, looking around the club. He was glad to get out of the confines of the castle for once but he was still alert to his surroundings – there was, after all, a mad man trying to kill him; he didn't want to drink too much in case something kicked off.

He noticed the others staring at him. "What?"

"A Butterbeer?" questioned Seamus, shaking his head with a smile.

"Give him a _Devil's Whore_," said Hermione. "You boys need help carrying the drinks?"

"Nah, we got it. You four go and find the other two, Dean and I will bring the drinks over."

So Harry followed Ron, Neville, and Hermione through the dancing crowd and over to the table that Parvati and Lavender had managed to secure.

Harry sat down and looked around. The club was playing some modern hit dance song (Harry didn't really follow music), but it was a good tune and everyone on the dance floor were moving their bodies in time with the beat. The club was dark apart from the flashing lights, and the bright blue neon lights over by the bar. The air was hot and perfumed. Harry noticed that there were tiers to the dance floor and on some of these raised levels were poles for people to dance. Scattered here and there were also cages, which Harry guessed were also for dancing, but _why_ people would want to dance in them, he didn't know.

There didn't really seem to be a dress code as everyone was dressed differently. There were some people dressed casually in jeans and shirts whilst others were going about dressed in hardly anything. Indeed, Harry had already spotted at least two women who were completely topless; (this did nothing whatsoever for him and his eyes moved on, picking out the good-looking guys.)

Dean and Seamus eventually joined them and gave out their drinks, before disappearing into the dancing crowd. Harry, who wasn't really into dancing, took a sip of his drink, which was sweet and juicy, despite it being called a _Devil's Whore_.

"What's in this anyway?" he asked, taking another mouthful.

"Vodka, something else, and some fruit juices," said Hermione vaguely. "The juice flavours always vary."

"Since when have you been such an expert on cocktails Hermione?" asked Ron, looking over at her.

"I'm not," she said, "I read it on the menu before."

The four of them sat there chatting over the music about anything and everything whilst Dean, Seamus, Lavender, and Parvati danced, every now and then coming back for some more of their drinks. As the night went on and Harry downed more and more _Devil's Whore's_, he decided to try different drinks. He tried something called a _Winter Moonrise_, which was a silvery colour and tasted very much like pineapple, although it had a lot of Bacardi in it – which, Hermione reminded him, wasn't actually called 'Bacardi' in the wizarding world, (that led to a debate over why 'Vodka' and 'Whisky' were recognized by wizards but 'Bacardi' wasn't – they were unable to come up with a decent answer.)

Soon after the _Winter Moonrise_, Harry tried a _Tequila Shake_, a _Passionate Mansion_, and a _Gory Martini_, before trying a _Screaming Devil_, which, he decided, was his favourite. More than anything, however, he loved the names of the drinks. It had to be a really easy life to just be able to sit around all day and think up names for various drinks.

"Who's round is it?" asked Lavender, bouncing over and joining them at their table again.

"Harry's," said Neville, "I got the last one."

"Same again?" he asked, getting up (and nearly falling over – how many had he had?)

They all chorused 'yes' and Harry made his way through the masses on the dance floor, who now all seemed to be writhing in a tangle of limbs, all in various states of pleasure. He reached the bar and leaned against it, waiting for one of the bar staff to finish serving other customers, rocking his body in time with the music.

As he was waiting he spotted a dark haired man at the other end of the bar. He was wearing a pair of black PVC pants that were hung very low on his hips. He had no top on. Harry's eyes wandered down the bare chest, taking in the beautiful sight. The man moved and Harry looked up at his face to see him smiling – he must have caught Harry looking. He started to come over and he rested against the bar next to Harry.

Harry turned his attention back to the bar man and ordered the eight drinks.

"Wow, that's a lot," the man next to him said. He turned and held out his hand to Harry. "I'm Jake."

"Harry," Harry replied, shaking the mans hand. "And I'm here with friends, hence the drinks."

"And what are you drinking?" he asked.

"Why? You offering to buy me one?"

"I am if you'll dance with me."

The bar man came back over to Harry and lay a tray full of multicoloured drinks in front of him.

"Tell you what," said Harry, handing over the money. "Stop by my table in 5 minutes and I just might take you up on that offer."

When the bar man had given Harry his change, he picked up the tray and headed back through the crowd of dancing witches and wizards towards their table. The club was getting busier by the hour so weaving in and out was no easy feat. But he managed to get through without any drinks getting knocked over, which was something.

He reached the table and set the drinks in front of everyone before taking his seat. Dean and Lavender were barely visible out on the dance floor as they were being swallowed by the mass of dancers, all rocking their bodies wildly to the relentless music, in various states of undress.

"Where's Neville?" asked Harry, looking around the club.

"Some girl asked him to dance," said Ron. "I think she goes to Hogwarts, I'm not sure."

"She doesn't," said Hermione. "She used to though, she was two years above us."

"Wow," said Ron, looking at Harry, "Who'd thought that Neville was in to old women?"

"Twenty is hardly 'old' Ron," Hermione reprehended.

"Ron," Seamus butted in, before the argument could go anywhere, "Why don't you ask Hermione to dance?"

"If Hermione wants to dance then she'll say," said Ron, sipping his drink.

"Oh, you're such a gentleman," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. She downed the rest of her drink and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Wanna dance?" she asked Ron.

"Well, you know I'm not really in to…" But he never got to finish his sentence as Hermione grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him out of his chair.

Harry laughed and watched them join Dean and Lavender on the dance floor. He sat back in his chair and looked about. There was something about this club that made Harry feel relaxed. He assumed it was down to the amount of drinks he had had, but there was such a calm atmosphere about the place, despite the fact that people were practically shagging on the dance floor. Young men and women had come out on to the various platforms and were now dancing suggestively around the shiny poles; one of the young men was completely naked, his gorgeous tanned legs wrapped around the pole tightly, his hips rubbing against it.

A drink was placed in front of him and Harry looked up. It was the cute guy from the bar.

"So, do you want to dance?" Jake asked with a smile.

"How did you know what I was drinking?" asked Harry, also with a smile.

"Lucky guess," he said. "So? I think you owe me a dance, Harry."

Harry laughed and downed the drink quickly before allowing himself to be led off to the dance floor. The moment he stepped foot into the insatiable crowd, his body came alive. _Yup_, he decided, _there's definitely some magic going on in this club_. But he didn't really care. All that mattered was that he danced with this beautiful stranger. The song, as had been all night so far, was another fast one and Harry's limbs sprang into action. Jake's body was already pressed closely to Harry's, who moved his hips forwards, gyrating them to the deep, sensual beat that was pounding through his body, made by the music. Other couples pressed in around them, dancing with abandon and enjoyment.

They danced together for the duration of two full songs until Harry started to feel a uncomfortable. Jake was tugging at Harry's shirt impatiently and his mouth was getting closer and closer to Harry's. Harry didn't understand; just because he had agreed to dance with the boy didn't mean he wanted something of _that_ nature to occur – far from it in fact. But the boy seemed eager and as Harry was just thinking of a way to avoid kissing him, lips landed on his, kissing enthusiastically. Harry pulled away.

"I won't be a minute," he told Jake, removing the other boys wandering hands. "I need the toilet."

"Want me to help you?" Jake grinned.

Harry tried laughed and shook his head, making his way through the excitable crowd towards the toilets. Only when he had entered the safety of the smaller room did he realise he was shaking. He stumbled over to the sinks and splashed his face with cold water a couple of times, breathing deeply. He wiped his hands on his trousers and looked at himself in the mirror.

Why had he let himself get this drunk? Why was he allowing himself to dance with utter strangers? This wasn't him, this wasn't who he was! He needed to get out of there before he further humiliated himself. Or worse.

Getting a hold of himself, he managed to stagger out into the club once more. The same heavy beat was pumping out of the speakers relentlessly, catering for the dancers every needs. Struggling slightly, he pushed his way passed the many people and over towards the brightly lit bar, from where he knew he would have a good view of the table they had all been seated at. He saw that Ron and Hermione had sat back down again, but had also been joined by the very person Harry was trying to avoid; Jake.

Harry turned around and caught the bar tenders attention.

After having told the young man to tell Hermione that Harry had gone home (and making sure that he reassured her that he was safe and there was no need to worry), Harry left the club and breathed in the clean, fresh air. The bar tender had been kind enough to supply Harry with a potion the club kept in stock that would sober him up but it wasn't taking effect yet. His ears were pounding after having been surrounded by such loud music all night and he staggered down the cobbled street, trying to act as if he was sober. Many people were walking about, going from one club or bar to the next – it was, after all, only 10:30pm – the night was still young.

He rounded the corner into the more familiar area of Hogsmeade, leaving the clubs behind as well as the noise. He didn't regret coming out because he _had_ had a good time. But he did regret drinking so much. He hated the feeling of loosing control of himself; it made him feel vulnerable and vulnerable was something he didn't want to be when there were mad people out in the world, trying to kill him.

He reached the gate to the castle grounds, pushed them open, and headed off across the lawn towards the old school, swaying every now and then in the wrong direction. He hoped he hadn't ruined the night for his friends by leaving early. He was sure they would understand once he explained to them that a total stranger had kissed him – he had been scared that the other boy would have tried to take things further.

He felt a tear escape his eye and trickle down his cheek, followed by a few more. In truth, he didn't know why he was crying. It was probably the alcohol making him emotional – he had seen it happen to Lavender a fair few times during their various common room parties they had held.

An owl hooted somewhere in the night sky and Harry looked up, realising for the first time that he was surrounded by darkness. The lights of the castle could be seen in the distance and, behind him, the lights of Hogsmeade. But where Harry stood, bathed in silence with only the stars providing light, he was very much alone. More tears escaped as he headed towards the castle. But at least the potion the bar tender had given him was starting to work now – he could feel his head becoming a little more clear as he began to slowly sober up. Good; he needed to be on alert. Anything could be lurking out there.

He dragged his feet as he made his way up the banking, towards the stone steps of the castle. Hagrid's hut was now visible, the lights on, creating a welcome sight. He smiled softly and continued across the grounds. The trees creaked in the gentle breeze and he found himself wishing he wasn't quite so alone.

"Potter?"

Harry jumped a mile, spinning around to see who had spoken. He could just about make out the figure of a man coming towards him. His mind was screaming for him to reach into his pocket and pull out his wand but his arm wasn't registering the instruction and he stood frozen to the spot, watching the man draw near.

His heart leapt when he realised it was Professor Snape.

**XXXXX**

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, calming down.

"I could ask you the same question," he responded, the words somewhat slurred.

"I…I didn't feel much up to partying after all," he said, noticing his teachers speech. "Professor, are you drunk?"

"Absolutely not," said Severus, swaying on the spot. "Are you?"

"I was," admitted Harry, "I still am a little bit. But I'm sobering up now." Severus saw Harry wipe something away from his face and it was then that he noticed how worn out the boy looked. He looked somewhat troubled.

"Why are you out here Professor?" Harry asked.

"I was…er…" he gestured around him, rather dramatically, with his arms, "…patrolling. I was patrolling the grounds. Keeping the scum away from _you_ – Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-_Lived_." He bowed, rather ungracefully, to Harry, before looking around himself again, turning on the spot. His hands dug deep into his robe pockets and he pulled out a small bottle.

"Oh," he exclaimed, "Look! Alcoholic juice of some sort!" He moved to uncap the lid but Harry took to out of his hands.

"I think you've had enough juice for the night Professor."

Severus stood on the spot, unmoving, for a moment. He felt…_bizarre_, everything felt bizarre. He _knew_ he was acting like a complete idiot (and of all people, in front of Harry!) but he couldn't help himself. He just couldn't be bothered resisting what his lowered inhibitions were urging him to do.

_So this is what its like to be really, really drunk…_

Severus had only ever been drunk three times in his life so he wasn't as used to handling himself as most other people his age were. He hadn't been drunk in such a long time that the lack of…care, respect, worry…_interested_ him somewhat. These sensations were practically new to him so if anything bad happened whilst in this state he was sure everyone would understand that it wasn't _his_ fault. It was the _drink_.

Nodding along, listening to his thoughts, he slowly became aware that Harry was staring at him. Severus tilted his head slightly, looking at the boy stood before him. His tears were gone now.

"Why were you crying?" he asked. If someone had hurt his Harry…!

"I wasn't."

Severus raised an eyebrow. Or, at least, he _tried_ to raise an eyebrow; it didn't quite work and he ended up looking like he had a funny squint.

"Professor, are you alright?"

"Stop calling me 'professor'," he snapped suddenly. "It makes me feel old." _And out of your league._

"Sorry," muttered Harry. "But sir, really, are you OK?"

"I'm fine," he said. Then, with a sigh; "My mother was right. Drinking _does_ complicate things."

"So you admit that you've been drinking, do you?" Harry sounded smug.

"Yes Potter," he said, rather dramatically, "I have been drinking! Send me to Azkaban!"

"Are you sure you're alright? Do you really think you should be wandering around in this state?"

_Aww_, Severus thought to himself, _he acts as if he cares. Imagine!_

"Imagine what?"

Severus looked over at Harry, confused. He must have said that last part out loud. Oh, how he wished he could say more. How he wanted to tell Harry everything he felt – the love, the confusion. If he carried on thinking like this, the drink may well influence him to do so and that was definitely _not_ a good thing.

_Time to stop thinking…_

He looked blankly at Harry, who smiled quizzically back at him.

"Why were you crying?" Severus heard himself ask again.

"Oh, it was nothing really," said Harry, turning towards the castle; Severus followed with his teetering steps. "They were just drunken tears. Happens to everyone."

"And why have you left the club early?" Severus suddenly felt very protective of the boy. He may not be a friend of Harry's but he sure knew a lot about him; he knew what made him happy and he knew what made him angry. He knew what kind of atmosphere the young man was comfortable in and a club was certainly not one of them.

Harry smiled at his drunken teacher. "I'll only tell you if you promise to go back to your rooms and take a potion to sober yourself up," he said. "I don't want you falling into the lake or something, no matter how good you may look in wet clothes," he finished, light-heartedly.

_Yup, Harry was very good at pretending he cared._

"I will," Severus managed to say. "And I _do_ look very good in wet clothes," he added as an afterthought, despite the fact that he was trying to _not_ think. He heard Harry chuckle and he looked up expectantly.

Harry sighed. "I left early because…this guy I was dancing with, Jake, he…he kissed me."

"And you didn't like that?"

"Well, no," said Harry, "Would you like it if some stranger kissed you?"

This confused Severus; "So…it didn't bother you that it was a male?"

"Professor," said Harry, stopping in his tracks; they had now reached the castle and were standing near the stone steps outside the large oak front doors, "I don't think this is the kind of conversation we should be having together. You hate me remember?"

"I don't _hate_ you," Severus said, and for some reason he thought it was a good idea to place a hand on Harry's cheek; the boy jerked a little but didn't pull away. "I don't hate you," he said again, "You just…irritate me sometimes."

"How so?" breathed Harry.

"When you ask stupid questions," listed Severus, "When you answer back in class, when you appear in the paper every day, when you break all the school rules and get away with it, when you win at Quidditch, when the other teachers stick up for you…"

"Ok, that's enough thank you," Harry cut across. Severus stopped and Harry, after a moment, turned to open the doors but Severus grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him back.

"Do you consider me a stranger, Harry?" he asked softly, hating himself yet unable to stop at the same time.

"N-no," said Harry, "I actually find you attrac…erm, I…you're a…great person to be in the company of..."

"You wanna know something else that irritates me about you? You're so goddamn beautiful…and I can't have you." _Shut up Snape! Shut up, shut up, shut up_! "Because I want you…and I can't have you…because you don't want me."

"Professor Snape," Harry said firmly, "You're very drunk. You need to rest."

"I need to kiss you," he said, so softly that Harry had to strain to hear it, "I need to know what it's like to kiss someone I…someone I actually want."

"You're drunk," Harry said again, "You don't know what you're saying."

But before Harry could do anything more to try to resist, Severus' lips had planted themselves firmly against Harry's. He kissed the non-responding lips softly, savouring the moment as he knew it was unlikely to repeat itself. But just as that thought was crossing his mind, he felt the lips move and he was stunned when Harry started to kiss him back. The kiss grew more heated, with both participants trying to get as much out of the kiss as possible, neither wanting it to end, both believing it would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Severus licked Harry's lip softly, begging for entry and Harry obliged, jumping at the chance to explore Severus' mouth. He felt Harry's hand curl itself in his hair and, taking that as a good sign, he pulled Harry closer, loving the feel of his body pressed against his, so warm, so soft. So perfect.

When Harry pulled away, Severus couldn't stop a groan escaping. He opened his eyes slowly and looked at Harry as if assessing the damage. Everything was just so hazy – why, _oh why_, had he gone and drank so much alcohol? Kissing Harry was something he knew he was going to regret in the morning…

"Good night Professor."

"Wha-, oh, yeah…goodnight Harry…"

_No more alcohol for you, Severus Snape. _

**XXXXX**

**A/N: **'k, for readers of Boy Who Lived: Father To Be - I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is that I have started writing more on it and I now have a few chapters coming together once more. The bad news is that it will be a while before I post one but we're talking less than a month, so it shouldn't be that long a wait...I realise it has been 4 months since I last updated that one _-hangs head in shame-_

But, on a happier note, (well, it is for me anyway!), I got into Uni! I got into Uni! I have to move out and go and live with random people miles away from home! Should be interesting!

Please Review!


	7. Avoidance Never Solved Anything

**Rating:** M 

**Warnings:** Slash, Mpreg

**Pairings:** SS/HP

**Genres:** Romance, Angst, Drama, Horror, Thriller

**Summary:** Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love. But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection - can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late?

* * *

**Chapter Six: Avoidance Never Solved Anything **

"I can't teach Potter anymore."

Dumbledore looked up from his desk and across at the man who had just taken a seat opposite him. The man's eyes were heavy and there were dark circles beneath them caused from lack of sleep. His skin was a lot paler than usual.

Dumbledore sighed and stopped what he was doing, pressing his face into his hands for a moment before looking back at the other man, leaning his chin on his clasped hands wearily.

"And why, Severus, can you not teach him any longer?"

"Because," he said, in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, "I do not like the boy."

"That 'boy' is willing to give up his _life_ to save the wizarding community from a terrible fate and you wont help give him a better chance of the survival he so _rightly_ deserves because you don't like him?"

"That is correct."

The old Headmaster sighed again, more deeply this time, and brought his hands up to massage his temples. He had known Severus now for a total of 27 years, 16 of which had been spent as co-workers, so he had experienced first-hand how stubborn and unreasonable the man could be. Having said that however, he also knew that Severus would always try to do the right thing, even if that act of kindness was disguised as something malicious.

"Why don't you like Harry, Severus?" he asked, sensing the potions teacher was in a particularly awkward mood.

"Because he is rude and obnoxious and I shouldn't be made to suffer his presence any longer."

"Oh, come now Severus, you hardly know the young man," Dumbledore said fairly, but Severus was having none of it.

"I don't want to know him. I have no desire to know him."

"You're being unreasonable. Surely you don't hate Harry so much that – "

"I can't teach him Albus," he cut across before the Headmaster could finish, "I just can't."

Dumbledore leaned backwards in his chair, surveying the other man. "You can't, Severus, or you won't?"

"Both," he replied hotly.

"I'm sure after you've given him a few more lessons you'll – "

"No, Albus, I won't do it. I won't do it and you can't make me!"

"Now you're starting to sound like a children," Dumbledore frowned, disapprovingly. "Severus, what's brought this on? What's happened that's so terrible it has made you decide to discontinue young Harry's lessons?"

Severus was silent as he turned his head away from Dumbledore's penetrating gaze. The old man had a nasty habit of trying to see inside of Severus' mind when he refused to answer his questions; he seemed to think that, in doing so, he was helping Severus with his problem. But no one could help Severus with what he was now facing.

Last night he had made a complete and utter fool out of himself. But not only had he succeeded in humiliating himself, he had gone one step further – he had broken the rules and the laws and had kissed a student. And not only had he kissed a student, he had practically _forced_ himself upon the poor thing. He was just glad Harry wasn't underage – at least he wouldn't be facing Azkaban. He'd just be out of a job.

He deserved to be fired though, and it wasn't just because he had forced himself upon a student. What kind of teacher gets drunk on school premises around young children? He had been a danger to himself and a danger to others. If he hadn't have seen Harry out in the grounds he didn't know what he would have ended up doing! He could have ended up in some ditch somewhere. He could have gotten himself into a fight. His father had always become violent after drinking; what was to say the same couldn't have happened to Severus?

But poor Harry! What must the boy be thinking? He was probably too scared to come anywhere near his teacher again! Harry had offered him help when Severus had been in no state to look after himself, and this was how Severus had repaid him? By kissing him? _Shameful, Severus. Really disgraceful._

Severus closed his eyes and breathed deeply before facing Dumbledore once more.

"Please Albus," he said slowly, keeping his impatience to himself. "Please, can't you just teach Potter for a few weeks? I'm not saying I'm going to stop training him altogether; I just need a few weeks to sort things out. I just need some time off…away from him."

Dumbledore sighed for a third time that morning and looked as though he was considering what Severus had purposed.

"You promise you'll go back to teaching him again?" he asked, looking sternly at the other professor.

"I promise," said Severus, grateful. "You deal with him for the rest of February and I promise once March gets here you won't hear another word of compliant out of me."

Dumbledore raised a silver eyebrow.

"Well, about Potter anyway," added Severus.

Dumbledore smiled and nodded, considering once more. "You'll resume your lessons with him in March?"

"I give you my word."

Finally, Dumbledore agreed to take on Harry for the rest of the month and Severus stood up to leave. Now all he had to do was think of a way to avoid Harry during Potions classes.

* * *

Harry felt himself waking and he rolled over in his bed in a desperate attempt to go back to sleep, snuggling deep into the warm covers, surrounded by softness. He loved his bed; it was so soft and comfy and he always felt so secure in it. Feeling himself drifting off once more, he allowed his mind to be taken over by the world of dreams. It was intoxicating, this state of mind.

But then there was light. Such a bright light.

"Go away," he mumbled into his pillow, turning his face away from the light pouring through his bed curtains.

"Harry, it's time to get up. It's almost one in the afternoon."

"I'm still sleeping," he said, angry that he had been taken away from such bliss.

"No you're not. If you were sleeping then we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Harry recognised that tone of voice. It was Hermione.

He sighed and, with much effort, lifted his head up and opened his eyes. She was stood over him, smiling as she held out a small, blue bottle.

"What's this?" he asked her.

"It's a potion for the hangover," she said.

"I haven't got one," he told her, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "The guy at the bar gave me one of those potions that sober you up."

"Lucky you. Ron and Seamus could hardly sit up to swallow this thing before," she said as she waved the small bottle.

"Where is everyone anyway?" he asked, noticing that their beds were empty.

"Dean and Neville have gone to get something eat, I don't know where Seamus is, and Ron's in the shower. So?"

"So what?"

"Jake! You! Gay!"

"Oh."

"So how long have you known?" she pressed.

"Known what?"

"That you're gay, silly!"

"Oh, that…yeah, well, you see…" He wasn't quite sure how to explain it and it didn't help that he was groggy from his sleep. "…I kind of didn't know until just recently that I was gay…I mean, the feelings and stuff where there, you know? But I didn't notice them for what they were until I acknowledged it and let stuff just…run it's course…" he finished lamely. "I know I'm not making much sense, but it's sort of hard to explain."

"Oh, don't worry, I understand," he reassured him. "But you are happy aren't you?"

"Hermione, you just woke me up! Of course I'm not happy!"

"No, no, not that. I mean about being gay."

"Oh," he said again, "Well, yeah, I guess so. I hadn't really thought about it much…" _Liar!_ he chided himself, remembering all the times he had spent worrying over the very matter. But it was far too early in the day to go into detail about all of that with Hermione.

"How come you never told us Harry? You do know you can talk to us, right?"

"Of course I do Hermione," he said, sitting up some more to prevent himself from sliding back down into the warmth of his duvet. "I didn't tell _anyone_ to be honest. Apart from Sirius. And Ron. But it wasn't anything serious, you know? I just mentioned it to Ron. I talked to Sirius a bit more and he helped a little. I guess I just didn't want to tell anyone until I knew for sure. Sorry."

"Hey, that's perfectly fine," she smiled. "Just don't feel you can't talk to me because I'm a girl."

"I would never think that Hermi– " But his sentence was cut short when the door burst open and Neville came in, followed by Dean. They saw that Harry was awake and went over.

"How're you feeling this morning?" asked Dean, unfolding a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ in his hands.

"Fine," said Harry, confused. "Why?"

"Because some _idiot_," said Neville, sitting down, "Has gone and written another article about you."

"Quite a personal one actually," said Dean, holding out the paper. "It has a colourful picture to go with it and all."

"The whole school's gossiping about it," Neville told him sombrely.

"What? About what?" Harry took the paper out of Dean's outstretched hand and turned it over. There, flashing up at him, was a photograph of himself and the boy from last night, Jake, kissing. And even though this annoyed Harry to no end, what annoyed him more was that the picture didn't even show his photographic self moving away; it just showed them dancing in the club and then Jake moving in for the kiss. And the article that went along with the picture (_"Potter's Secret Gay-Lover"_) made him seem like some sort of slut.

"Why?" Harry asked, throwing the article down, "Why me?"

"Harry," Hermione began, taking the article into her own hands, "This time next week, no one will be that bothered about it."

"But what about now? What about this week? Hermione, everyone's going to laugh at me!"

"Why would they laugh at you?" Neville asked.

"I bet there are loads of other people in this school who are gay," said Dean. "I mean, sure, you'll get some stick from Malfoy and his gang…but apart from that…Harry, I'm almost positive people will be supportive."

Harry collapsed back into his bed and covered his face with his hands. When would he ever be able to have a life without the press writing all about it? His life was just one big story to them. When would they realise that he was a 17 year old boy and needed his privacy? He was growing up and he needed to deal with personal issues, not have them made public knowledge!

Realistically, Harry knew he would be able to cope. He had his friends and that was what mattered. Who cared what everyone else thought? Yeah, Malfoy would be a complete pain in the ass (more so than usual), but what did that matter?

He was annoyed at the article but he had much bigger things to worry about.

* * *

As the day wore on, Harry realised that his being 'outed' as gay wasn't as big a problem as he had thought it would be. Ok, so the Slytherins hadn't missed a chance to tease him so far, and some of the other students were skirting around him in the corridors as if he had some sort of contagious disease, but apart from that, things were almost normal; ('_almost_' being the key word).

Not once had Harry seen Snape that day. He hadn't been at lunch when Harry had finally decided to drag himself out of bed and he was now absent from dinner. Harry supposed he should feel grateful for the fact that he wasn't being forced into the company of the older man but all he could feel was a slight pang of guilt. Snape had, quite obviously, been very, _very_ drunk so it should have fallen to Harry to look after the him. But he hadn't; instead, he had taken advantage of Snape by letting _Snape_ take advantage of _him_. Snape was either really, really mad or really, really ashamed, neither of which was a good thing.

But Snape couldn't hide away forever. In 15 minutes time, Harry would be treading the familiar path down to the dungeons and having their scheduled lesson. He couldn't exactly say he was looking forward to it though…but the sooner things were set straight, the better.

Sighing, he picked up his spoon and tucked into the chocolate fudge cake Hermione had just placed in front of him.

"Cheer up mate, it might never happen," said Ron cheerfully, looking over at Harry. Harry looked up, confused, and Ron shook his head with a smile. "You've looked even gloomier than Professor Binns all day," he said. "What's up?"

"Oh," he said, shrugging, "You know. Exams coming up."

"Oh," said Ron, a little surprised. "I thought you were moping about that picture in the paper."

"Then why did you ask if you already knew?"

"To make conversation," he said.

"This conversation is going no where," Harry moaned, returning to his pudding. Ron shrugged, rolled his eyes, and turned back to his desert but looked up again as Professor Dumbledore appeared behind Harry. Harry twisted round in his seat and looked up.

"Ah, Harry," he said, smiling down at him. "I was wandering if you could join me in my office at 7 o'clock."

"Tonight?" he asked. Dumbledore nodded cheerfully.

"I'm sorry Professor, but I have my lessons with Professor Snape then."

"Oh? He hasn't told you?" Dumbledore sounded surprised.

"Told me, sir?"

"Yes. Severus has requested that he take some time off from teaching you and has asked me if I would like to fill in for him. Naturally, I said I would."

"He doesn't want to teach me anymore? Did he say why?"

"I'm afraid he did not. I assumed it was because the extra work was getting to him. So; you'll be in my office in five minutes?"

Harry nodded and watched solemnly as Dumbledore walked away.

* * *

As the week grew, Harry was growing more and more troubled. Hermione and Ron thought he was being paranoid, but Harry was convinced that Snape was deliberately avoiding him. The only time Harry saw Snape during that week was in class, and even then the older man would avoid eye contact with him. What was even worse was the lack of snarls and sneers thrown Harry's way; he wasn't even taking points away! Ron couldn't see what was so bad about that, but it played on Harry's mind constantly.

Toward the end of the week when nothing had changed, Harry had tried to corner the potions professor after class but Snape had just brushed him aside, ignoring Harry's words, and stalked down the corridor. Harry didn't know whether to be hurt or worried. Thinking about it, he also didn't know why he was bothered – it wasn't as if he fancied Snape or anything…really, it wasn't.

Sirius wrote to him, consoling him about the article in the paper, and Harry wrote back letting his godfather know that it hadn't affected him too much. He was taking the silly comments and jeers in his stride and it was only a matter of time before they left him be. Harry had actually received a lot of fan mail in response to the article, mostly from young men and older women, showing their support.

Harry had considered letting Sirius know of his sudden Snape dilemma (without mentioning names of course) but had decided against it. He was a grown man now and he would find a way to deal with this himself – that, and he didn't want anybody knowing, and he knew that if he mentioned anything about it to Sirius then he would press and press Harry until he gave in and told him who the man in question was. Harry couldn't see Sirius being happy, hearing something like that.

As the weekend drew round however, something happened that lifted Harry's spirits slightly and managed to make him forget all about Severus Snape.

Harry sat down in front of Dumbledore's desk on Saturday evening, awaiting his lesson. That afternoon, Harry had tried, once more, to get Snape to talk to him. Harry was getting seriously worried now. Snape was obviously ashamed of what he had done and Harry desperately wanted to console his teacher. The fact was that the more Snape dodged and avoided Harry, the more Harry wanted to fix the problem. He missed being yelled and snarled at. He didn't like to see the man so down.

But Harry didn't have time to brood on the matter any longer and as Dumbledore entered and announced the good news, Harry pushed Snape out of his mind just as Dumbledore told him that a Horcrux had been destroyed.

"Which one?" Harry asked, sitting up in his chair.

"Slytherins locket," he said with a grin. "After I had shown the message in the other locket to Sirius, he instantly jumped to his feet and ran for the drawing room. The locket we had been seeking had been hidden at Grimmauld Place all this time. I just wish I had shown it to him sooner."

"So how many does that leave now sir?" Harry asked, trying to picture the objects in his head.

"Well, as we have already seen to the diary, the ring, and now the locket, we still have another three to go, the final piece resting within Voldemort himself. Thankfully, I already have a lead on the whereabouts of Hufflepuff's cup, but as for the other two…"

Harry remembered Dumbledore telling him his suspicions that the other two Horcruxes were either something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's (but, as there were no known items in existence that belonged to Ravenclaw, it was more likely to be something of Gryffindor's – the sword or the hat) and, possibly, the snake, Nagini, that Voldemort kept with him at all times.

"Well," said Harry, thinking over that, "At least we're half way through now."

"We are indeed," smiled Dumbledore. "And since we are growing ever closer to defeating Voldemort once and for all, I think it is time for you to learn to how to kill him."

Harry's smile vanished and he stared at the old man. "You…you mean…_kill_...as in, _kill_ him?"

Dumbledore smiled a soft, sympathetic smile. "I know it doesn't seem humane to know such a curse," he said, "but it is necessary. You knew that somewhere along the line that this moment would come Harry. And I know it will take some getting used to, there's no doubt about that – this is an extremely dark, harsh, and advanced piece of magic. But without it…" he trailed off, looking at Harry.

Harry knew he couldn't complain. Dumbledore had explained to him earlier on that he would be learning the dark arts but with everything that had happened he had simply forgotten. Every time he had thought about the war and how he would be killing the Dark Lord he hadn't pictured the killing curse being a part of it – stupid really.

Harry looked back at the Headmaster and nodded, showing he understood.

* * *

After the lesson was over, Harry slowly made his way back up to Gryffindor Tower. The lesson hadn't been as bad as Harry had thought it would be after Dumbledore had announced that he would be teaching him the killing curse. They was a lot of theory to learn about the 'Avada Kedavra' curse so they had spent most of the lesson talking and discussing the amount of power, will, and emotion that should be put behind the spell. Indeed, it required a hell of a lot of concentration and the caster had to process the desire to kill. All in all, the curse was pure evil and Harry seriously doubted whether or not he would be able to perform it.

Running over everything Dumbledore had said in their lesson, Harry almost didn't notice the sweep of long, black robes up ahead of him as a figure rounded a corner. Almost certain of who those robes belonged to, Harry rushed up along the corridor after him.

"Professor!" Harry called out, running after the man; Snape acted as though he hadn't heard Harry calling and continued on his way, but Harry wasn't letting him go this time – this time he really did have him all to himself.

"Professor Snape, wait!" he called out again. He caught up to the teacher who was forced to stop. Harry heard him inhale a long, strong breath through his nose before he turned to face him.

"What is it Potter? I haven't got time to stand around all night," he snapped.

"Professor, we need to talk."

* * *

**A/N:** Firstly, I'm sorry that this chapter was so short. And secondly, I'm sorry that I wasn't able to update both my fics as soon as I had promised to do. Settling in to University was a lot harder than I thought it would be. And since its freashers week and theres been like a party every single night I haven't found time to get on the internet or have been too drunk to get on the internet. Such is life at Uni. But I'm all settled, sober, and ready to go! Woo!

Thank you all for your patience and reviews!


	8. Matters of the Heart

**Rating:** M

**Warnings:** Slash, Mpreg, a lot of angst in later chapters which may upset some people

**Pairings:** SS/HP

**Genres:** Romance, Angst, Humour, Drama, Horror, Thriller

**Summary:** Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love.But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection- can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late?**

* * *

**

**Chapter Eight: Matters of the Heart**

Severus stared at Harry, trying to think of some excuse to get out of what was surely coming up. He didn't want to talk about _it_ with Harry; talking about _it_ would only complicate things more. He already felt uncomfortable enough without having to discuss things.

But, Severus supposed, he should be grateful. Harry had had all week to turn Severus in to the Headmaster, he'd had all week to get his professor fired; but he hadn't. Instead, Harry had been more of a grown up about all of this than Severus himself had. Harry wanted to _talk_.

"Very well," Severus sighed, and he turned on his heel and swept down the corridors, towards his dungeons. Harry followed, jogging to keep up with his teachers' fast pace.

When they entered Severus' dark rooms, Harry stood over by the door, looking around, as if waiting to be invited in to sit down. Severus did so, before lighting a few candles and sitting down opposite the younger man. An uncomfortable silence followed and it wasn't long before Severus' nerves forced him to break it.

"Well?" he snapped, looking at Harry. "You wanted to talk, so talk."

"Professor," Harry started, sounding awkward, "I'm sorry about the other night. You were drunk and I shouldn't have let you get carried away."

For a moment, all Severus could do was stare at Harry. Had the boy just said that _he_ was sorry?

"Potter," he began, trying to maintain his dignity whilst talking about such a thing, "You have nothing to be sorry about. I was the one who," (he cringed), "…_kissed_…you. Besides, I should not have allowed myself to become so inebriated in the first place. It was a terribly foolish thing for a teacher to do…and I'm sorry."

This time, it was Harry's turn to stare and Severus was sure it had something to do with hearing his nasty potions teacher apologise. Severus rolled his eyes; sometimes, the students really amused him; yes, Severus _did_ have a heart and yes, Severus _did_ apologise. Get over it.

"Professor, I'm sure you had a very good reason for drinking," Harry said, looking hesitantly at his professor to see if he should continue. Severus merely glared at him, waiting to hear what was going to come out of the boys mouth next.

"I know that's not the sort of thing you'd do," Harry went on, sincere. "I know you're not like that."

Severus' eyes seemed to burn when Harry said that and all hope of having a civil conversation disappeared.

"What the hell do you know?" he snapped, suddenly angry. "You don't know _anything_ about me!"

"I know you more than you think," Harry replied hotly.

"You know nothing!"

"I know plenty! I know you're not the person everyone else sees; I know you hide behind this curtain of cold and darkness because you're afraid to let people get close to you. I know you use your past as a shield, as a way to scare people off. And I know that when you drink, you drink because there is a _reason_ to drink. You drink to forget; you drink to lose yourself. You drink because your life is harsh."

Not having expected that little outburst, Severus was momentarily stunned. Potter must have put a lot of thought into what he was going to say before he had come to talk to Severus, that much was clear. However, as Severus shook himself, he began to collect his thoughts. How dare Potter make such assumptions! How dare he sit there and yell these things at his teacher!

How dare he be so right.

He obviously paid quite close attention to his teacher because yes, Severus' life was harsh. And yes, he did drink to forget. But it hadn't worked. Nothing ever would and Severus had come to expect nothing more. He was condemned to live his life without a sprinkle of happiness and he had long ago made his peace with that.

"It is none of your business, nor your concern, as to why I was drinking. It is not your place to assume such things."

"But I'm right," Harry said softly. "I know I am. I can tell." When Severus didn't respond, Harry continued, changing tack. "Professor…I kissed you back. It's my fault just as much as it is yours."

"I forced myself upon you!"

"I could have stopped you if I'd wanted to," said Harry, and when Severus next glanced up at Harry he saw that the boys face was shining with compassion. "What happened, happened; we can't deny that. But I just wished we'd spoken about it rather than having you avoid me all this time."

"I have not been avoiding you," Severus lied, trying to snatch some dignity back, but Harry was having none of it.

"You handed me over to Dumbledore for our lessons; what else would you call that?"

"Dumbledore is far more experienced than I am."

"Maybe," Harry agreed, "But that's not why you did it. Look, the other night…you said some stuff…about…liking me…"

_Oh God, why did the boy have to bring that up as well as the damn kiss?_

"Potter, as much as it shames me to admit, I was drunk. I was so goddamn drunk you could have asked to me to wear a pink tutu and prance around the grounds and I would have done it. What I said that night was irrelevant."

"You said you wanted me."

"Weren't you listening? I said it was irrelevant."

"So you don't want me?" There was something strange in Harry's voice; hope perhaps? Severus didn't dare let himself think it was the opposite. Why would anyone be hurt on hearing that Severus Snape didn't want them?

"It was just some drunken mistake and I apologise for putting you in such a position."

Harry didn't respond to that so Severus chanced another look across at him. If Severus had been hoping to glimpse some sort of clue as to what was going through Harry's mind, he was let down; the boys face was a perfect mask, showing nothing of whatever emotion he was experiencing.

"Oh," said Harry, talking finally. "Well, in that case, I would like to request that you resume our lessons."

"Why?" asked Severus, taken aback. "Surely you don't want me around you after what happened."

"You just said it meant nothing?" Harry asked and Severus nodded, waiting curiously. "Well then, there's no harm in us being left alone for a few hours a week is there? You can teach me without having to worry that I'm going to turn you in or something."

"Potter, I think it's for the best that we don't – "

"No, Professor, it isn't. We're at war and I need all the help I can get! _You_ know what Voldemort's like, _you_ know how he fights. I need _you_ if I'm to have a chance beating him."

He couldn't be serious could he? After what Snape had done the boy should be running for cover, not offering himself up to Severus on a platter! But then again, Harry didn't know how Severus felt…

"Fine. I will have a word with the headmaster and we shall resume your lessons in due course." What else could he have said? He didn't want Harry to get suspicious. "But bear in mind, I will not be giving you any special treatment. As far as I'm concerned, what happened between us never happened. Feel free to go to the headmaster with a compliant should you see fit. But apart from that, we shall never mention this again. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly," said Harry.

* * *

The following week was just like any other week at Hogwarts. Harry went to classes, got homework, went to Potions, got sneered at by Professor Snape, and lost 30 house points for Gryffindor for back-chatting said professor in class. Everything was back to normal. 

Well, almost everything. Even though Snape had said that they should forget that the drunken kiss had ever happened between them, Harry wasn't so keen on the idea. There had been a small part of him that had had a fools hope that Snape would become more human after discussing what had happened. He'd found himself secretly wanting the man to say that the kiss _had_ meant something after all and so had his words. But they hadn't. And Harry was pretty sure that Snape had meant it when he'd said they hadn't.

Harry didn't know where to turn. On the one hand, he wanted to keep all of this to himself and get on with life. What was the point in trying to pursue something that, realistically, was never going to happen? But on the other, the Gryffindor in him was pushing him to do something foolish, something he could come to regret. But what was it that he wanted to do? His heart was urging him forwards, but for what, Harry wasn't sure. Or he hadn't been sure, until now.

Just watching the dark, stubborn teacher make snide remarks in class was enough to keep Harry mesmerized for the rest of the day. The way he walked, the way he talked; the simple way he held the class's attention with just one of his infamous glares (which Harry was now finding to be as sexy as hell). Severus Snape was so much more than just what lay on the surface. There were layers upon layers of personality and secrets just waiting to be unravelled.

But what was Harry to do? He felt he desperately needed advice, but who could he turn to? He couldn't even trust himself anymore, because coming to terms with what he was feeling was threatening to tear him up inside, yet at the same time he wanted to jump for joy.

It's one thing to admit you're gay. But to admit you have a crush on your Potions Professor is just plain suicide.

* * *

"So, what you lot up to today then?" asked Dean, joining the breakfast table. 

"Well, seeing as how our N.E.W.T's are just around the corner," said Hermione, looking up from her book, "I was thinking that it would be a good idea for us all to stay in today and have a study session."

Dean looked at her, then at Ron and Harry, before looking back at Hermione.

"You serious?" he asked her.

"Of course," she said, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," said Dean, looking around at the others for help, "We've all be studying so hard I thought it would have been nice to get out of the castle for a bit."

"It's a Hogsmeade weekend," said Seamus, nodding. "And it's a really hot day. We could go into the village for a few hours."

Harry smiled at Dean and Seamus, knowing that they were fighting a loosing battle; there was no way Hermione was going to be swayed – she'd already made Harry, Ron, and Neville promise to stay in to study and she was now making it her duty to get the other two boys to stay as well.

With the coming of April meant the coming of seventh year exams. The dreaded N.E.W.T's were very important and could be the make-or-break of your future career. Like had happened in their fifth year, they were all being called to their Heads of Houses to discuss plans for the future. All week, some seventh year students had been receiving job offers from all over the world, stating that if they gained the required amount of grades they would be guaranteed a job with that company. Harry had received quite a few, just as Hermione had. But he still wasn't 100 percent sure of what he wanted to do. He'd had his heart set on being on Auror (and in the main he still did) but after having seen how many different jobs were on offer, he had fallen back to considering things again.

He'd had offers from numerous Quidditch teams from all over Britain and, even though he was extremely passionate about Quidditch, he couldn't bare the thought of bringing even more fame and glory to his name.

He did, however, like the idea of having a job that would allow him to travel. He'd never been on holiday before, let alone out of the Country, so it would be nice to be involved in a job that would give him many travelling opportunities. Most of the jobs that would allow this were positions in the Ministry.

But to be an Auror would mean a lot to him. He didn't want to seem big-headed, but he was sure he'd be perfect for the job. After all, he'd had plenty of experience.

Harry shook his head and turned back to his breakfast. There were others things that had to take precedence over deciding what he wanted to do for a living. He still had the war to think about. And then there was Snape of course. And his lessons, but those were just 'war' and 'Snape' tied in together really.

Nothing had changed between Harry and Snape since they had resumed his lessons. Snape had gone back to his same old annoying (although devilishly sexy) self, and Harry was still struggling with the curses he was supposed to be learning. They had attempted the killing curse once since their lessons together had restarted and, seeing how hopeless Harry was at it, Snape had suggested moving on to other areas of dark magic.

With every lesson came the same old warning; dark magic was addictive, dark magic was consuming; don't let the desire to do dark magic take over you. And so on and so forth. Harry thought he was handling it all rather well – so far the desire to do more dark deeds hadn't arisen and he was optimistic that it never would. However, he kept the warnings in mind each time he had to perform a curse, just to be on the safe side.

Something that wasn't so easy to deal with though were his feelings for Snape. He was pretty sure they weren't going to disappear any time soon so he would just have to face them full on and deal with it. So he had an attraction to Snape? So what? As long as no one found out, he was convinced it couldn't do any harm. It was just that, sometimes (usually in class) his mind would get a bit carried away; casual thoughts would turn into dirty daydreams – he could just picture himself, laying under Snape, legs spread wide, beads of sweat trickling down his bare chest…such thoughts couldn't be allowed!

But just because they weren't allowed didn't mean he couldn't enjoy them. They were, after all, private thoughts; no harm done. In fact, Harry passed away many nights, picturing all the sorts of things he'd love Snape to do to him. It was quickly becoming his favourite pastime.

* * *

Another week swam by, bringing the exams ever closer. The castle was a lot more quiet than usual as most of its inhabitants were now engrossed in their studies. As the weekend rolled round, Harry was very thankful indeed that he had his lessons with Snape to attend – Hermione was becoming more unbearable than usual. 

He daren't say anything to her, but she really was becoming insufferable. He knew the exams were important and that she was only trying to look out for her friends by making sure they studied, but really…! He was an adult now and was capable of organizing his time himself.

It wasn't just Hermione who was the problem though. The teachers were really laying it on thick as well. To Harry, the N.E.W.T's were just some exams he had to pass – he didn't have time to worry about them when he had a bloody war on his hands.

All in all, the week was a stressful one. He wasn't in a particularly cheerful mood when he made his way down to the dungeons for his lessons, despite the fact that it would mean seeing his 'beloved' teacher. If anything, he just wanted to crawl into bed and forget about the world for an hour or two.

However, something good had come out of the week. Dumbledore had found yet another Horcrux (Hufflepuff's cup) which now only left two; something or Gryffindor or Ravenclaws and the snake. Or maybe it wasn't the snake and was just something of both Gryffindor and Ravenclaws…Dumbledore may be convinced that the Nagini was one, but why make a living animal something that important? Either way, there were only two left and then his path to Voldemort would be clear.

Harry knocked on Snape's door and entered, pulling out his wand as he did so. Recently, Snape had taken to attacking Harry when he walked through the door (and, indeed, sometimes when he was walking down the corridors); this way, Harry was learning to be on alert. Stepping over the threshold, he carefully closed the door and scanned the room. It appeared to be empty. Taking another look around, he noticed a piece of parchment pinned to the desk.

_Potter,_

_I will be five minutes late for out scheduled lesson. I have things to deal with. Take this time to practice the curses we went over last week. Don't break anything. If you do, there will be hell to pay._

_Professor Snape_

"_Don't break anything_," Harry muttered, sitting down on the sofa. "Asshole."

With his wand, he lit the overhead candelabras, giving the place some light. Harry couldn't understand why Snape preferred the darkness so much but that was one of the things he liked about him. The man was a mystery just waiting to be solved.

He sighed to himself and stretched out on the sofa, allowing his mind to, once more, wander to thoughts of Snape.

He couldn't quite explain why he liked Snape so much. It was just everything about him. Harry wasn't fooled like the rest were. Harry could see through the façade Snape had lived with for the long, long years. He also thought he knew why Snape had such a smokescreen in front of him and Harry craved to be the person to break through it all to reach the real Severus.

Inside, Snape was probably crying out for help and Harry just wanted to jump on a horse and be his Knight in Shining Armour. He longed to rescue the man from himself; just like he longed to have Snape make hot, passionate love to him…Snape, thrusting into him, Harry's arms held tight above his head…Snape, moaning his name in pleasure…Snape -

"I thought I told you to practice not sit around on your arse."

Harry jumped up off of the sofa and spun to face his professor, feeling himself start to blush. Not only were these daydreams giving him false hope – they were dangerous; after all, Snape could easily pluck them from his mind.

_But would that be such a bad thing?_ Harry wondered. It would be so much easier to have Snape figure out how Harry felt; Embarrassing, daunting, but so much easier.

But who was he kidding. Why would Snape have any sort of interest in a 17 year old boy?

"Well, come on then," said Snape. "I haven't got all day. Wand out."

"What are we practicing?" asked Harry, obeying Snape's commands automatically.

"For the first part of the lesson we are going to go over what we did last time," he said, "Hopefully better," he added.

Harry took up his position opposite Snape and awaited his attack, all too aware that his wand hand was shaking. He calmed himself down and held it firmly.

Snape made a sudden movement and shot a spell at him but Harry defended himself and reflected it, trying to force his mind to concentrate on the wordless spells. Again and again Snape fired spells at him and Harry was only able to manage a shield spell before he was attacked by more spells.

He was fighting like a child. It was all he could think of. Here he was, battling Snape, and all Harry was capable of was blocking attacks. What must Snape think of him? If Harry wanted even a small hope of winning Snape's heart, he would have to earn it. Losing an easy fight was _not_ the way to do that.

Shaking his head, thinking of a curse to break the cycle, he suddenly leaped out of the way and forced his mind to think 'Stupefy' and fired the curse at Snape in a flash of red light. The man easily dodged it and reflected it upon Harry, who wasn't quick enough and was hit.

He fell to the ground against the back of the sofa with a 'thump'. Straight away he attempted to push himself back up, but Snape wasn't showing any mercy and knocked him back down. Harry felt the red beam of light hit him hard in the chest and he screamed in pure frustration, throwing his wand across the room. It rolled under the table with a clatter. Snape stared at him.

"What the hell is wrong with you today Potter? Stop acting like such an infant and go and fetch that wand!"

"You fetch it!"

"10 points from Gryffindor!" the professor snapped. "Pick. It. Up."

"You can't make me!" Harry snapped back.

"Do you want to bet on that Potter?"

Harry glared up at him, daring him to make a move. In an instant, Snape had raised his wand and Harry was doubled over, clutching his stomach. He clenched his teeth against the pain, hating Snape. But the pain disappeared as fast as it had come and Harry lay on the floor, fighting tears.

"I hate you," Harry muttered acidly, not looking up at his teacher.

"Trust me," said Snape, "The feeling is very much reciprocated."

"No," said Harry quietly, "I really, really, hate you. I hate everything."

"Most teenagers do," said Snape.

"You have no idea," muttered Harry, finally pushing himself into a sitting position and bringing his knees up to his chest.

"No idea of what, Mr Potter?"

"Of what it's like to be me," he spat. "Of what it's like to…" He stopped, catching himself before he could say more.

Snape looked downed at Harry with a cruel grin on his face.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked, mocking Harry's words from the Christmas holidays. Harry knew his teacher was taunting him – he was far too used to it by now. When Harry responded by turning away, Snape sighed and crouched down besides Harry.

"Of what it's like to what?" he asked, trying to sound as if it was his duty to look like he cared. Harry shook his head.

"Fine," Snape snapped, getting up, "If you want to wallow in self pity, that's fine. Just don't do it in my time. Get up and fetch your wand."

Harry shook his head again, fighting the urges he felt; the urges that were begging for him to tell Snape how he felt. Maybe he'd get to see a human side to his professor again if he did so? He knew they'd both agreed to put what had happened between them behind them, he knew it wouldn't do him any good to bring it all back up again; but he had to do something.

"You don't know what it's like to have feelings for someone…" he sniffed, "and not have them returned."

When all went quiet, Harry chanced a look up at his professor, preparing himself for the worst. But Snape wasn't wearing an expression of malice or of gleeful disgust, ready to mock, like Harry had imagined. No. He looked rather…sympathetic? Guilty? Whatever it was, his expression had softened.

"Believe me, Harry," he said, "I know."

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry again about slow updates. I suck. But you guys rule! Thanks for the reviews! 


	9. To Reach an Understanding

**Rating:** M

**Warnings:** Slash, Mpreg, a lot of angst in later chapters which may upset some people

**Pairings:** SS/HP

**Genres:** Romance, Angst, Humour, Drama, Horror, Thriller

**Summary:** Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love.But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection- can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late?

* * *

**Chapter Nine: To Reach an Understanding**

"You know? How can you possibly know?"

"I _do_ have a heart you know," he snapped, stalking away to the other side of the room. "I _have_ had relationships."

"Oh, no, I didn't mean to insult you…I didn't mean it like that…I mean, of course you've had relationships, I don't doubt that but…" Harry halted his speech and sighed, pulling himself to his feet.

Harry didn't know what to say or do. He wanted to ask questions and find out what Snape had meant when he'd said "I know." It sounded as though Snape had his heart set on someone, someone who didn't return that love. A part of Harry considered the possibility that that person could be him; Snape had, after all, said a lot of revealing stuff that night when he had been drunk.

As much as Harry was desperate to find out more, he was scared to push his professor too far.

"Are you ok?" he asked, standing and looking at his professor's back. "I really didn't mean to insult you."

Snape sighed. "I know you didn't Potter."

"Do you…I mean, if you want to talk…I'm here."

Harry watched as Snape's shoulders shook slightly as his professor chuckled humourlessly. "Let's not get in to all that again," he said, turning.

"I mean it though," said Harry, taking a step closer now that he could see Snape's face. "If you ever want to talk I want you to know that you can relay on me."

The fire crackled over in the grate as they both stood still. Snape seemed to be studying Harry, weighing up his options, whatever those might be. Finally, Snape moved over to his desk and leant against it.

"Why are you doing this?" Snape asked.

"Doing what?"

"This. Caring."

Harry looked down at the floor and scuffed his foot on the edge of the big rug.

"Because I care," he said, shrugging. "Over the past months I've seen parts of you that I've never seen before. Like…" he hesitated before continuing, "Like when you walked in on me in the shower. And that night when you were drunk and you said all those things…and when you kissed me."

Snape looked away from Harry.

"I know you told me not to talk about it," said Harry, his confidence building now, "But we can't ignore it. The fact is, it _did_ happen and in doing so I got to see a part of you that I thought didn't exist. Deep down you're just like everybody else, you just pretend you're not."

"Harry – "

"You like to seem invulnerable. You don't want people to know that you too are a caring, passionate person. You bleed and you cry just like everyone else Professor – there's no crime against that."

"Harry, please, let me – "

"No! You're gonna listen to me Snape! And when I'm through you're gonna give me a good answer! For once in your life why don't you just let someone in? I can see that there's something bothering you but you're just too much of a goddamn man to let anyone help you! Why? Why do you make yourself miserable? Why don't you let yourself be happy?"

"Because I don't deserve to be happy! Look at me! Look at my life! What the fuck do I have left?"

"You have everything ahead of you."

"Like what? Growing old and then dying alone?"

"You wouldn't be alone if you weren't so stubborn!"

"People don't want to be with someone like me Potter!"

"That's because no one knows you. What the fuck do you expect if you yell and scorn at everyone who comes along? You don't let anyone in! You know what your problem is? You have trust issues; serious trust issues."

"And how the hell would you know?"

"I don't need to have spent my life around you to know something like that Snape. You don't even allow yourself to have friends."

"I _have_ friends," Snape growled, no longer leaning against the desk.

"Co-worker's don't count," said Harry. Snape huffed and looked away, disgusted, but Harry could tell by the way his eyes remained turned to the floor that Snape was doing some serious thinking. Harry almost felt guilty, especially when he thought he noticed a slight shine in Snape's eyes. He sighed.

"Professor," he said slowly, "I don't mean to…I don't know, I just…I can't ignore what happened…I can't help what I feel. I just wanted to help you. I want you to be happy; it kills me to see the way you refuse to be happy. I don't know what to say anymore, I…"

"I think you've said enough," Snape whispered, eyes still not looking at Harry. "I think you should go."

Harry groaned inwardly and turned towards the door. There was no point in arguing further – he'd already screwed everything up as it was. But before he could reach the door he stopped and looked back. Maybe he could still get through to him.

"I don't want to."

Snape looked up. "I beg your pardon?"

"I don't wanna go. I want to stay here."

"Potter, I don't think you understand. _I'm _the teacher here, _I_ give out the instructions. You have already crossed the mark; do not make things worse for yourself."

"There you go again," said Harry quietly, "Pushing people away."

"Why the fuck do you care so much?"

"I kissed you back Professor! Can't you figure it out yourself?"

Harry was well aware he had now crossed the point of no return. His heart beat painfully fast as he looked at Snape, preparing himself for whatever was going to happen next. When Snape didn't reply, Harry took a deep breath. He just hoped he didn't live to regret this. But what was life without a couple of risks? If you didn't take risks, you would never know how far things could be pushed. Now was the time to be brave.

"I like you Professor. I like you a lot."

And then came that dreaded silence. Why wasn't Snape speaking? Why was Harry still stood there like an idiot?

_Oh God, oh God, oh God! Fuck, why did I say that?_ _Run you asshole! Run; get the hell out of here!_

"Harry, I…I don't know what t – "

"I'm sorry," Harry breathed out suddenly, "I have to go." And just like that, Harry turned around and fled the dungeons.

* * *

Severus stared at the place where Harry had been stood just seconds before. His mind was whirling. Never had he expected something like this to occur. He didn't think he'd ever felt so stunned in his life! 

The past half hour had been so full of surprises. His mind was still trying to take it all in. _One thing at a time_, he told himself.

Fuck. Just…fuck. Had Harry really just said all that? Had Severus honestly just stood there and listened to all of that? Had Harry just admitted that he had feelings for him?

Fuck.

"I'm going mad," Severus muttered to himself, dropping onto the sofa.

It all felt so surreal. How could Harry possible like him? How could the boy have read him like a bloody book? No one had ever said such things to him before; no one had ever had the balls to do it! Who would have thought that Harry Potter, of all people, would have been the one to give Severus such a reality check!

He'd sounded so passionate when he'd been yelling at Severus, dishing out a few home-truths. But Severus had needed to hear them, that was for sure. He knew what he was like; after all, it had taken him years to build such a strong shield around himself. But to have Harry just waltz on in and shatter it like it was nothing?

Severus would have tried to convince himself that Harry was young and stupid – he'd kissed his professor and was therefore infatuated with him because he thought it had meant something – but Severus knew Harry better than that; he didn't know what it was, but he felt something…he knew that what Harry had said about liking him was true, however impossible that may be.

"Why Potter? Why does he have to be the one I fall for?"

* * *

Harry sat on the top-most bench, high up in the Quidditch stands, hugging his knees to his chest, sobbing gently. He was sheltered from the wind here but the cold April chill still reached him and he shivered, staring out at the few visible stars. 

Despite the gentle wind, it was a quiet night. Not a creature could be heard in the forest; even Hagrid's giant of a half-brother wasn't stirring. He wished the clouds would clear – he missed the stars.

He let out a sigh and watched as his breath turned into mist. He did it again.

He'd been sat there for at least ten minutes before his thoughts began to form. When he knew he could no longer ignore them, he turned his eyes away from the sky and lay his head on his knees.

He'd said what he'd had to say and he didn't regret that. Snape had needed telling. He acted like a cold hearted bastard and it was only right that Harry berate him for it. Snape, after everything life had dealt him, deserved to be happy and Harry knew that he never would if he continued the way he was currently.

And Harry was relived that he'd told Snape how he felt. It had been eating at him for some time now and, even though it had slipped out in the heat of the moment, he was glad he'd said it.

What he regretted was running away like some scared little child. But he hadn't been able to help himself; he'd told Snape he'd liked him and there had been this silence and nothing was happening and his reason had caught up with him and Snape had been staring at him and he'd panicked!

The worse thing was, he couldn't go back. He'd have to face Snape everyday until the end of school and that was a whole two months away! He knew there and then that he'd never be able to look Snape in the eye again.

"Urgh, I'm such a loser," he muttered into his knee, cringing at the memory.

Maybe he could run away to another country and get a job there? With his experience (and, admittedly, his fame) he'd be able to get almost any job he wanted, despite having no official qualifications. It was better than having to face up to the shame of having done what he had done.

A soft noise reached his ears and Harry lifted his head and looked down into the lower stands. He could have sworn he'd heard what sounded like footsteps. When a figure emerged out from behind a post, he knew he'd heard correctly. He held his wand tight in his hand. Then he relaxed his grip, but his heart tightened. It was Snape.

Harry turned his eyes back out to the grounds as Snape approached. He felt the man take a seat next to him and for a few moments they sat in silence, admiring the night. Finally, Harry spoke.

"How did you know where I'd be?" he asked softly, his breath rising in a mist before him once again.

"I know you," Snape answered. "Just like you know me."

They fell silent again as Harry contemplated on what to say. He wasn't sure what Snape wanted to hear or what he, in turn, wanted Snape to say. After a minute had passed, Harry decided on the most obvious thing to say.

"I'm sorry," he said calmly.

"Me too," Snape replied. "You left in such a hurry; you didn't give me a chance to say anything."

"I figured there was nothing left to say," Harry told him, not looking at him, "Not on my part anyway. I guess I was afraid to hear what you might say."

With a soft rustle of robes, Snape turned to look at Harry. "You were right about everything you said. I guess you do know me well."

"It wasn't my place to say such things."

"No," Snape agreed, "But I'm glad you did. I needed to hear it."

Harry shivered in the cold and hugged himself tighter. He chanced a look at Snape, who looked straight back at him, before turning away again.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. But I just had to get it all out. I had to tell you what I thought…and what I felt. I know this is the last thing you need, some starry-eyed seventeen year old boy saying he…well…"

"Likes me a lot?" Snape supplied. Despite himself, Harry let out a small laugh.

"I bet you think I'm so pathetic. What could I possibly know about…'liking people a lot.'?"

Snape smiled and if Harry had been watching he surely would have been shocked to see such a thing.

"Those things I said on that night when I was drunk…I suppose there was _some_ truth behind them. They had to have come from somewhere, right?"

Harry turned to look at Snape, eyes wide. "What?"

Snape studied Harry then turned to face the night. "As surprising as this may sound Harry, I _do_ function like a normal human being, just like you knew I did." He turned to Harry and a small smile formed on his lips, reaching his eyes, amused; "I don't hate you. I am actually quite fond of you."

Harry opened and closed his mouth, stunned, trying to think of something to say. When all that he could muster was a small croak, Snape laughed softly. "You're an interesting person Harry. I actually admire you."

Harry found his voice. "Admire me? What's there to admire?"

"Your bravery for a start. It seems that everything you do, you do with this fearlessness. You hold your head up high and dive right in, consequences be damned."

"I'm not as brave as you think," Harry said quietly. "And I do get scared; all the time."

"But has that ever stopped you from doing something? You may be seventeen Harry but, despite your childish tantrums, you're one of the most mature people I know." There was a slight pause before he continued. "I must thank you for your honesty with me earlier. I can understand how hard it must have been to say all that."

"Yeah, well…it all just kind of came tumbling out really…I couldn't stop myself." He stopped and looked at Snape. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not making fun of me. For not turning all 'Professor Snape' on me."

Snape smiled again and Harry smiled back, feeling truly happy for the first time in weeks. Relief was sweeping through him and he couldn't help but press on with the conversation.

"So," said Harry, "You like me huh?"

Snape grinned. "Yes, Mr Potter, it seems I like you."

"Good," said Harry, "Because I like you to."

"Really?" he joked, "I had no idea."

Harry laughed and playfully hit Snape on the arm. It was such an odd feeling, being so at ease around Snape now, but it was all just starting to come naturally. He knew he shouldn't get his hopes up for anything to happen though – after all, he'd already be granted so much – but he was curious to see how things would now start to develop. He felt he long longer had to hide anything from Snape anymore. He wondered if Snape felt the same.

* * *

"So," said Harry, after a long, yet comfortable, silence, "Now what?" 

"What do you mean?" asked Severus.

"Well," said Harry, slowly, deliberating, "We both, you know, like each other. And we both know that the other knows…so where do we go from here?"

Severus thought about what Harry was saying and his heart leapt. Did Harry mean that he wanted a relationship to occur between the two of them? He knew that was what he himself desperately wanted – what could be better than being with someone who actually wanted to be with him? – but he would have to think realistically here; there were a lot of issues to take into consideration.

"Just because there's a mutual attraction doesn't mean we have to do anything," Severus said, knowing full well that that was not what either of them wanted to hear.

"But I want to," said Harry. "I thought you did as well. Think about it, we'd be perfect together."

"I know," Severus sighed, "And I do want something positive to come out of all of this but…we can't, we just can't."

"Why not? Age doesn't matter; you said yourself that I was one of the most mature people you knew. And, emotionally, we already know so much about each other. It would work."

"We can't," he said again, "It's against the rules; we shouldn't even be discussing it." It hurt to say that, to really, truly acknowledge the fact that it was forbidden for them to be together. After having wanted it for so long, to finally reach – against all odds – that point where they could actually move forwards with each other, to get there and know that they couldn't…well, it was a real blow, that was for sure.

Harry opened his mouth to argue but closed it, knowing better; arguing wasn't going to get them anywhere if Severus had already said "no". However, Severus found himself secretly hoping that Harry would continue to press the matter. He knew that if Harry did, he would find himself giving in and warming to Harry's hopes and dreams. But all Harry did was turn away, looking defeated. It almost broke Severus' heart; he knew how hard it had been for Harry to confess so much that night.

"Hey," said Severus, one hand on Harry's shoulder. "When you've finished school and moved away, well, if you still want to…I wouldn't be opposed to the idea."

Harry perked up. "Really?" he asked.

"Really."

* * *

For the next week Harry felt as though he were floating around on a constant high. In all of his life he had never experienced such a feeling. Snape wanted him and Snape wanted to give 'them' a go once school was over. That thought, and that thought alone, kept Harry going, despite all the dark happenings unravelling around them to do with war. 

Unsurprisingly, Harry's friends had noticed the difference in him. He simply told them that he had taken a new, positive look on his future. Even though they didn't believe him, they let it be.

Something that also went by unnoticed was the friendship that had suddenly developed between Harry and Severus Snape. Snape had told him that the other professor's had commented on how close they had become and how civilized were being towards each other. Snape had simply told them that he and Potter had reached an unspoken understanding to not piss each other off as they had far more important things to concentrate on – Voldemort was getting more and more arrogant in his attacks so the harder they worked and the less they bickered, the better. It was a very simple excuse and no one questioned it.

Something which they had to keep in check though was their flirting. Harry knew it was dangerous territory, to flirt with your Potions Master when surrounded by 20 odd classmates, but he couldn't help it. Now that they were both aware of the attraction they shared, Harry felt that there was no reason to hold back. It wasn't anything too blatant mind you; just a stolen look here, a little feel there…sometimes they would pass each other in busy corridors and would brush up against each other, both of them hiding their smiles as there bodies came into contact.

Harry lessons, however, were much more subdued. Even though he longed to wrap himself in Snape's arms, he knew that these lessons were there to help win the war and he acknowledged how important they were. But they were a lot more enjoyable now – you could almost feel the sexual tension between them and Harry thrived on that feeling, knowing he was wanted.

But this wonderful feeling had to dissipate at some point, and those points were usually when Hermione was harping on about exams. Harry had stopped getting himself stressed over her insistence to study now and was settling down to do some revision himself. The N.E.W.T's were a week away and he was determined to achieve the best possible grade he could get. Hermione had devised a revision time table for herself, Harry and Ron and the boys were actually sticking to it. Despite Harry's earlier feelings that he wasn't nervous about these exams, as the time grew closer he could feel himself starting to worry. Each evening the trio could be found sat at the table in their common room, pouring over books and class notes, reading and testing each other. Hermione had even gone so far as to write the two boys a few practice questions. With her help, Harry's confidence was growing once more and he felt more than ready to deal with the exam.

Harry's lessons with Snape were going just as good as his exam revision was. Snape had finally felt sure that Harry was ready to deal with the killing curse once more. He had brought with him a jar of spiders, just like the fake Moody had a few years ago, and was talking Harry through the process one was supposed to go through when performing such a dark curse.

"Now, are you _sure_ you want to try this?" Snape asked for the umpteenth time that evening.

"If I don't do it now then I'm never going to do it," said Harry, pulling out his wand. "I need to get it over with and there's no time like the present."

"Alright. But just remember everything we have gone over in the past few months. Dark curses are addictive and this truly is the master of them all."

"I'm sure I can handle it," said Harry with a small smile, "They haven't affected me so far have they?"

"Ok," said Snape. "Just remember everything I've said. And a word of warning," he added with a grin, "If you turn to the dark side, I will not give 'us' a shot after you graduate."

He then opened the jar and pulled out a spider, freezing it so that it couldn't run away and hide out of sight. He placed it on the desk and moved away.

As Harry stared at the spider, he couldn't help but feel sorry for it. Perhaps it was because he knew that what he was about to do was wrong that made his oversensitive conscience kick in. He tried with all his might to erase such feelings but he just couldn't. He lowered his wand.

"I can't," he said.

"You didn't even try," said Snape.

"No, I mean, I _can't_. I haven't got the heart to kill the poor thing. He hasn't done anything wrong, he doesn't deserve to die."

Snape stared at him for a few seconds before speaking. "Harry," he said, walking over to him, "This is the only way you are going to learn. We can't exactly practice this curse on just anyone."

"You could always bring Malfoy in here," Harry suggested; Snape just glared at him. "Look," Harry went on, "That spider hasn't done anything. I know it's just a mere spider but every time I look at it, knowing what I'm about to do, I just freeze up. It's innocent – it probably has a family to provide for; I can't just murder it."

"Harry – it's a spider."

"How would you feel it if you were a spider and someone came along and killed you?"

"Well I wouldn't know what I'd feel because someone would have killed me before I had the chance to register what was going on."

Harry turned away and folded his arms stubbornly. Severus sighed.

"How else are you to learn how to perform this curse?" he asked. "You can't just go out onto the battle field having never done it before."

"I'm sure there has to be another way. How does everyone else who has to do it learn?"

"By killing spiders," Snape said. "Or humans if you're a Death Eater," he added.

"This is stupid," Harry complained, sitting down on the edge of Snape's desk. "I'm not a murderer. I can't kill – humans or spiders."

"You'll have to kill The Dark Lord," said Snape, walking over to Harry; "He's human."

"Barely," said Harry. "It's just…the idea of killing, of ending someone's life just like that…it's wrong. No one should have that power."

"Right or wrong can not be a part of it now," said Snape softly. "Morals will only tie you down. When this war reaches breaking point and the Death Eaters are slaughtering our men without a second thought, your morals are going to have to be left behind as well. Generally in war it's all or nothing. You know that our side needs to win and that is all you need to know. The Dark Lord _must_ be taken down. Think of all the destruction he has caused and _will_ cause in the future. The world will be bathed in darkness, everyone will lose all hope. Do you think the Dark Side have morals holding _them_ back?"

"But that's what separates us from them," said Harry. "The fact that we hold on to our morals, that we maintain our sense of right and wrong. It won't be a great victory if we win this war by abandoning our ethics. To win this war we need to prove that good really does triumph over evil – we can't let ourselves become that which we are fighting."

"You make a very good point," said Snape, standing in front of Harry now, looking into his eyes. "But if winning this war means playing by their rules, playing them at their own game…isn't it worth it?"

"Nothing is worth losing yourself."

"Not even the future?"

Harry broke their eye contact and looked down. He wiped a lone tear away from his cheek. Before he could dislodge himself from off of the desk, Snape placed a hand on his chin and lifted Harry's head so that they were looking at each other once more.

"You're an inspiration to us all," Snape whispered. "I wish there were more like you, with your bravery and your heart."

Harry sniffed. "I could cost us the war."

Snape smiled softly. "No. No you couldn't. Because I know you'll find a way. I know you'll battle through, morals intact. I know you'll do us all proud and you'll bring us a moral victory. And when you're done battling evil and saving the world, you'll come home to me."

Harry smiled a watery, teary-eyed smile and shook his head, unbelievably. Snape had so much faith in him and Harry was deeply touched.

Before either of them knew what was happening, they were leaning in to each other. As soon as their lips touched, they were lost. Kissing tenderly, Harry wound his arms around Snape's neck as Snape pulled the boy closer. Snape deepened the kiss and Harry felt his legs wrap themselves securely around Snape's waist, desperately pulling the warm body closer to him. He sat up straight, his hands tangling themselves in the long black hair, breathing deeply through his nose, not wanting the moment to stop. To some, it was just a kiss, but Harry had never felt so close to someone in his whole life and that was what made it so much more.

Harry vowed, there and then, that at the end of all this, he would indeed be coming home to Severus Snape.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry if there are more mistakes in this chapter than usual - I have gone over it 3 times but I always end up missing something.

Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! I love you all!


	10. Life Decisions

**Rating:** M 

**Warnings:** Slash, Mpreg, a lot of angst in later chapters which may upset some people

**Pairings:** SS/HP

**Genres:** Romance, Angst, Humour, Drama, Horror, Thriller

**Summary:** Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love.But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection- can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late?

* * *

**A/N: Warning - This chapter contains slashy action. Yum. And yay for my longest chapter! Sorry if it tends to drag on a bit - I knew where I wanted it to go but it just wasn't going there.**

* * *

**Chapter 10: Life Decisions **

Harry couldn't concentrate – at least not on the lesson. But it wasn't his fault; his mind was just far more interested in watching Snape speak rather than actually listening to the words that were coming out of his mouth. He wondered whether Snape wore boxers or briefs; briefs would be tighter and sexier, much more revealing than the manly boxer shorts. Harry smiled; he could just picture Snape in a pair of briefs, standing at the foot of the bed, showing off his muscled thighs. But even though Snape had shown his softer side when he had admitted his feelings for Harry, he couldn't imagine the man really wearing such tight, revealing underwear. Snape probably wore boxers, black boxers to be exact, and they probably came down to his knees.

Uh oh. Snape was looking at him again. Harry quickly picked up his quill and bent his head over his desk, pretending to take notes. However, he couldn't help but look at the professor from underneath his eyelashes. Snape had that look on his face – you know the one; when he's just caught you doing something you shouldn't be and there's no way you're going to be able to get yourself out of what's to come next. Harry bit his lip and looked back at his empty parchment.

It was a hot and humid Wednesday afternoon. Exams had been taking place for the past two days but Harry hadn't had one yet so he and Ron had opted to go to the Potions Revision class along with most of their year; (Hermione was in an Ancient Runes exam). But so far Harry hadn't gotten much done as he was far too busy eyeing up his professor. Every time Snape opened his mouth to give the class another lecture, Harry would find himself lost in his dirty little daydreams once more, imagining what Snape would look like in the throes of passion, mouth open, head thrown back, a look of pure pleasure plastered across his face. Harry would give anything to make sure he was the one to make Snape look and feel like that and, with the end of the school year rapidly approaching, he might be the one to do just that.

Harry knew that being lost in your daydreams was a dangerous place to be in when around a teacher, especially if that teacher was Professor Snape, despite the fact that they were now almost dating. Just because he was special to Snape didn't mean he could get away with not paying attention, although he didn't know what his punishment might be. However, having been 'caught in the act' so to speak, he was about to find out.

"Mr Potter?" Snape's voice was smooth and foreboding.

"Sir?"

"Would you care to tell us the solution?"

"Solution, sir?"

"The solution to the problem we were just discussing," Snape said with an innocent smile. The classroom had gone quiet and out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Malfoy smirking at him. He looked back down at his empty parchment.

"Err…well, it all depends on, erm…well, the, err…"

Snape breathed in through his nose and tilted his head, looking at Harry. Harry sighed.

"I don't know Sir."

"And why do you not know, Mr Potter?"

"Because I wasn't listening," Harry mumbled.

"I thought as much. Detention; tonight, 8 o'clock, my office."

Well, that was just great. That was all he needed; to be landed in detention with Snape the day before his first exam…wait…detention with Snape..._alone_ with Snape. Well, having a lack of an attention span really did pay off!

* * *

As soon as Harry stepped foot into Snape's rooms he was attacked by spell after spell. Doing what he had been trained to do, he ducked, pulled out his wand, and shot back at the attacker. Streams of red, yellow, and blue light streaked back and forth across the room, knocking into tables, shattering glasses, and ricocheting off the walls. Harry leapt to his feet before being forced to dive behind the sofa for safety. Looking around, he spotted Snape's reflection in the full length mirror. He sent a curse at it and watched as the spell bounced off the surface, streaking towards its target, who ducked out of the way at the last second. Harry used that short time to dash around the sofa and advance on the other man, who turned and shot at Harry; Harry dodged the spell before jumping onto the low coffee table and leaping into the air, flying towards Snape. When Harry saw that Snape was about to put up a shield around himself he slashed through it with his wand and knocked into his professor, bringing them both crashing to the ground. Harry sat on top of Snape, triumphant, pinning the man's hands above his head on the floor.

"I win!" Harry smiled, still using Snape as a seat.

"Yes," Snape grunted. "But you only win because I didn't use the killing curse on you. If I would have fired _that_, you, Mr Potter, would have been history. Shield spells don't block killing curses."

"But my dodging was very good, you have to admit," said Harry. "I only needed to protect myself with magic a few times." He smirked down at his Professor.

"I noticed," Snape said. "And I _was_ impressed with the way you focused on your attack, not leaving room for the constant need for defence. You're getting better."

"Perhaps you're just getting slower in your old age," Harry teased.

"You cheeky little – "

"Now, now Professor, there's no need to go getting yourself wound up; it can't be good for your blood pressure."

"If I had my hands I'd – "

"You'd what?" Harry smiled. When Snape just glared at him, Harry bent down and pressed a kiss to his lips. When he felt Snape trying to deepen the kiss, Harry smiled again and pulled back.

"Right," he said, smacking Snape playfully on the leg, "Let's get back to work. We haven't got time to be lying around on the floor all evening you know?"

They trained hard, well into the night. They went over everything they had covered since the lessons had begun, covering all types of defence and attacks non-verbally and wandlessly. From spells, jinxes, hexes, and curses, they went on to physical combat. It wasn't anything too fancy – Snape was a former Death Eater, not a master in Jujitsu! – but they were able to practise dodging, swerving, jumping, hiding; basically, everything they would need to avoid being hit by a spell without having to use magic. Finally, after an exhausting two and a half hours, Snape finally announced himself satisfied with what they had achieved.

"There is still so much more we could cover," he said, collapsing next to Harry on the sofa, "But we have already done so much – to cover everything we'd need at least a couple of years. But," he said, turning his head lazily and smiling at Harry, "I have every confidence in you. I'm proud of how far you have come Harry." He leaned over and gave Harry a soft kiss before pulling away and standing up.

"Ok," he said, reaching for his wand once more, "We still have one more thing left to do."

"Like what?" asked Harry, tired.

"The killing curse. Harry, I know you don't want to try it out but…if we are to win this war, if you are to once and for all rid the world of him…Harry, it's inevitable."

Harry got to his feet. "Professor, we've been over this. I can't do it. I thought I could, but I can't. I'll do it on Voldemort but not anyone or anything else."

"But we don't know if you'll even be able to cast the curse. You can't just walk out to war and expect to kill him without ever having preformed it before!"

"We've gone over the theory enough times Professor. I'm sure if I just keep all that in mind – if I remember what the curse requires of me – then it has to work."

Snape sighed. "Harry, I'm really not comfortable with this. Very few wizards have cast a successful killing curse their first time. This is life or death."

"I know. And I promise you, I'll do everything I can to make sure the curse is as powerful as it can possibly be. I want to kill him, Professor. I'm not doing it because I have to; I really, truly want to kill him. That should be enough to make it work."

"And if it doesn't?" he asked, watching Harry pace.

"It will."

"If it doesn't, Harry?"

"Do you really have so little faith in me?"

"Harry, I'm being serious. There are so many holes in this plan of yours! There is so much that could go horribly wrong."

"It won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

Harry couldn't explain it in words. He knew the odds were against him; he knew it was terribly stupid not to have practised the curse before hand, but there was no way he could bring himself to do it, not even on a spider. This curse was meant for one man.

It wasn't as if Harry was overconfident or anything. Indeed, he still had many, many doubts. But he also had a gut feeling. Perhaps it was because he was tired? Perhaps it was because his relationship with Snape had made him more optimistic about the future? Perhaps the relationship gave him hope? Whatever it was, he just felt like he had to do this his way.

But there was something else nagging at him and, as much as he would have liked to ignore it, he couldn't any longer. Part of that gut feeling he felt was that, if he cast this killing curse more than once, he felt he would become a slave to the Dark Arts. He was terrified of that happening.

Shaking his head slowly, he looked Snape in the eye and smiled sadly.

"I don't know," he whispered. "I'm scared? I'm hopeful? I honestly couldn't tell you Professor."

After a moment, Snape nodded. He got to his feet and placed a kiss on Harry's head, then cheek, then lips. "Call me Severus."

"Really?" Harry smiled.

"Sure," he smiled back. "It seems a bit inappropriate of you to be calling me 'Professor' after we've, you know…"

"Snogged each others brains out?" Harry supplied.

"Just make sure you don't call me 'Severus' in front of other teachers and students."

Harry tutted. "I'm not stupid you know." He saw Severus about to respond and added, "And don't even think about making some sarcastic comment."

Severus shut his mouth and glared at Harry, mockingly. Then he sighed. "You know me far too well Potter."

"But not as well as I'd like to."

Severus moved in front of Harry and wrapped his arms around him; it was remarkable how right it felt. "You graduate soon," he said. "After that, we'll have all the time in the world."

"If I'm still alive," Harry reminded him.

"You will be. I'll make sure of that."

The conversation faded into a comfortable silence, both men content with just holding each other close. Harry loved how events had turned out; a few weeks ago, Harry would never have hoped that things would turn out like this, that he'd be in Severus' arms. Back then he'd only had wishes and dreams.

He was amazed at how things with Severus had progressed. Who would have guessed that, after the initial bumpy ride, Severus Snape would have opened up so well? True, there were still a lot of unspoken issues and feelings left between them, but it only added to the chemistry between them.

It felt too good to be true.

Harry felt Severus stir and he looked up, slowly pulling away.

"It's time you went," said Severus. "Your friends will be wondering where you are."

"They know I'm in detention," he said.

"It's almost 11:45 at night."

"Really? We've been here that long?"

Severus nodded, smiling slightly at the look on Harry's face. He let him go and went to fetch the boy's wand from the sofa.

"Good Luck in your first lot of exams tomorrow," he said, handing Harry his wand.

"Do I get a Good Luck kiss?" Harry asked sweetly. Severus rolled his eyes but obliged all the same. Harry smiled, pocketed his wand, and headed for the door. Just as he was about to leave, he looked back.

"Professor? Can I ask you something?"

Severus looked up from his desk, curious, and nodded.

"Do you wear boxers or briefs?"

Surprised at being asked such a question, Severus chuckled and shook his head. He smiled over at Harry before averting his eyes back to the notes littered across his desk.

"If you do well on your Potions exam, you may well find out Mr Potter."

Harry smiled in anticipation at that answer, already imagining all the things Severus would have in store for him.

"Good Night Severus," he waved, before heading out into the corridor and towards his dormitory, a goofy smile plastered on his face.

* * *

"I. Hate. Charms."

"Oh come on Ron, it wasn't that bad. In fact, I thought it was rather easy really. A first year could have answered that question on stunning spells. And that one on cleaning charms was extremely basic."

"Hermione – shut up."

"Oh cheer up Ron," said Harry, skipping along side his friends as they headed across the grounds, "I'm sure it didn't go as bad as you think it did."

"Err, were you even taking the same exam as I was? 'Cause if you were – which I'm almost positive you were – then you would have noticed how fuckin' hard those last two pages of questions were!"

"Well, it wasn't anything we'd _not_ done. I mean, we'd only just gone over them again a few days ago in class."

"And when have I ever paid attention in class?"

"Well then, it's your own fault you found it so difficult," said Hermione. She stopped near the edge of the lake and they all sat down. Most of the students who didn't have exams that day were already outside, basking underneath the warm sun.

Harry dropped his bag down and lay on his back, hands tucked behind his head for support, and looked out lazily at the gigantic lake. Ron was still moaning about how bad the exam had gone and Hermione was pulling out her Herbology revision notes, getting ready for their next exam which was to take place later that afternoon. They didn't have any practical exams until next week, something which had put Ron in a bad mood the instant he had received his exam timetable.

"I'm gonna fail, I know I am," Ron whined, throwing a stone into the lake.

"I wish you'd stop complaining," said Hermione, looking up from her notes. "You still have your practical exam to do; that should bring your grades right up."

Ron just shook his head and covered his face with his hands, mumbling into his knee. Harry caught Hermione's eye and they both chuckled before returning to what they were doing which, in Harry's case, was nothing at all.

As he looked around at all the students he couldn't help but feel strange. Seven years; he'd spent seven years here and they had been the best years of his life. He'd made friends and had developed a family and it would be so hard to leave it all behind. Of course, he'd always have Ron and Hermione and Sirius and Remus (and hopefully Severus), but to just leave all this? Leave Hogwarts?

He hadn't really given the future much thought. In two months he would be leaving school, going out into the 'real world'. He supposed he could stay with Sirius and Remus for a while, just until he found his feet. But then what? Where should he live? Where did he want to live? What size house did he want? Hell, how did a person even go about buying a house? It was so daunting, realising that you really were becoming a true independent person, especially as it felt like only yesterday when he had first set foot in the ancient magical castle.

Time really did just fly by.

* * *

Harry stood outside the room where the practical exams were taking place, awaiting his turn. Most of the students around him had their wands out and were getting in some last minute practice.

Exams had been raging within the castle for two weeks but with the next exam it was all coming to an end. So far, Harry had no complaints. His written Potions exam could have gone better and he'd accidentally turned his examiner into a jam jar in his practical Transfiguration exam, but apart from those little mishaps, Harry was very pleased with himself. Now all that was left was the practical Defence Against the Dark Arts exam.

Finally, his name was called and he entered the room. It was empty except for a few small chairs scattered about. The examiner, a short, plump man with dark hair, was stood in the middle of the room, smiling at Harry.

"I'm Professor Grey," he said in a bright voice, hand outstretched to Harry. Harry shook it.

"Now," he said, rubbing his hands together, "This won't take long. I'm going to ask you to cast a few spells and curses and then we'll see how good you are at defending yourself. Nothing to worry about really." He pulled out his wand and they began.

Harry was able to cast every spell, hex, jinx, and curse perfectly. Remus had told them before that they wouldn't be asked to perform the spells non-verbally but if they did they would definitely earn more marks, so that was what Harry did. He only had to use his voice on the particularly powerful ones.

After he had done what Professor Grey had asked of him, they engaged in a duel. It was nothing too difficult, just a few defences and attacks here and there. At one point Professor Grey blasted Harry's wand out of his hand but Harry, seeing the perfect opportunity to show off his wandless magical abilities, called his wand to him silently with just a slight wave of his hand. The examiner was very impressed with this and the session ended on a positive note.

"That was remarkable; very good indeed. I'd heard great things about your abilities in this subject Mr Potter and, well, I can say I am very much impressed. Yes, that was quite something. Thank you very much. You are now free to go."

Harry walked out the room with a smile on his face. What a perfect end to the exams, he thought. He smiled at Ron as he walked passed him (they weren't allowed to talk to one another as Ron hadn't done his exam yet) and headed down the corridor, back to the common room.

* * *

"How'd it go then guys?" Ginny asked, bouncing over to them and seating herself on the sofa next to Harry.

The atmosphere in the common room had changed dramatically now that the final exam was over with. All the fifth and seventh years could finally relax and the others were now free to talk loudly without having a fifth or seventh year fire a hex at them for making too much noise. Seamus and Dean had even 'broken' out of the castle to buy some drinks to celebrate with.

"It went great," smiled Harry, moving his legs so Ginny had more room to sit down. "I showed off at every opportunity I got."

"Nothing's changed there then," Hermione teased, provoking Harry to stick his tongue out at her.

"It was definitely one of the better exams," Ron agreed, sipping a Butterbeer. "I didn't screw up a thing."

"That's a first," laughed Ginny; Ron just pulled a face.

"So what do you three have planned for the rest of your time here?" she asked. "After all, it's only May. We've still got, what; five or six weeks left?"

"Well I don't know about the other two," said Hermione, "But I plan on using the spare time we have left to get some job and house hunting done."

"You're going straight into work?" asked Ron.

"No, I'm just gonna sit around on my ass and starve to death. Yes Ron, I'm going straight into working. In case you haven't noticed, people need money."

"Well, I just thought you were going to live with your parents."

"I am. But I want to save up for my own place."

"What do you want to work as then?" asked Harry, taking a swig of his drink.

"I'm not really sure yet; there are so many different areas I want to work in. Which is why I am not going to be wasting the time we have left drinking and partying. I want to have everything planned out before I leave. What about you guys?"

Ron shrugged so Harry spoke up. "I think I want to be an Auror. I don't really want to make any decisions until I know what I got on my exams though. There's no point in setting my heart on it if I don't have the qualifications."

"What do you need?" asked Ginny.

"Five N.E.W.T's, with no mark below an 'E'."

"I'm sure you'll be OK," said Ginny. "And even if you don't get the required grades I'm sure they'll still let you in, what with everything you've already done."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he said, opening another bottle. Ginny laughed and turned to Ron.

"So what about you big bro?"

"I dunno. I'm still trying to figure out where to live. I don't want to live with Mum and Dad for the rest of my life, but I haven't got enough money to get somewhere of my own."

"Well the sooner you get a job, the sooner you'll have the money," said Ginny.

"But I don't know what I want to do though."

"I can help you job hunt," said Hermione, looking slightly excited at the idea. "We have weeks ahead of us; I'm sure we can find a job you like in that time."

Harry hid a laugh as he saw the look of horror on Ron's face. The idea of job hunting with Hermione wasn't exactly something to look forward to. Harry was sure Hermione would look up every single job there was available in the magical world, dishing out bits of information about all the different companies and positions there were. Harry was just glad he knew what he wanted to work as.

But, again, there was still the prospect of getting his own place. He knew Sirius and Remus would love to have him come stay with them; Sirius wrote to Harry every week, either filling him in on what had been going on in the Order or else bringing him up to date with all the gossip; (Sirius had far too much time on his hands and had become an avid reader of gossip magazines.) And Harry got on very well with Remus – the teacher was like a friendly Uncle to him and he knew Remus would enjoy the extra company; (being stuck with Sirius for the whole summer wasn't exactly a walk in the park!). But sooner or later Harry would have to find his own feet and buy a nice place of his own. Nothing too big mind you; after all, there was only going to be himself (and maybe Severus?) living there. No, what he wanted was something fancy, something modern. He'd never had anything to call his own when he was growing up so now that he was able to, he wanted something impressive. Maybe a penthouse or loft somewhere? Something that said "I'm young, I'm successful, I'm independent" without seeming like he was flaunting his cash.

He downed another Butterbeer and sighed. Six weeks; was that really all they had left at school? He hoped he would stay in contact with Dumbledore; Dumbledore wasn't just the Headmaster – over the years he had become a great friend and he would hate for them to drift apart after Harry left Hogwarts. And McGonagall as well – she was someone Harry hoped stayed in touch. And perhaps Madam Pomfrey; considering the amount of times Harry had ended up needing medical attention from the nurse, it would seem weird to not have her around when he needed her in the future. And, of course, there was Snape. To stay in touch with Severus after he left would mean the world to him.

And speaking of Severus…

"Hey, guys," Harry said, placing his empty bottle on the floor, "I'm just gonna go grab some fresh air."

"Oh, well, we can come with you then. Maybe we could go and visit Hagrid. We haven't seen him in God knows how long."

"Oh, no, really Hermione, it's fine. I want to be on my own for a bit, you know?"

"Sure," she said, sounding a little put-out. "Is everything OK though?"

"Yeah, fine. I just got some things to think about; the future and stuff. I won't be gone long."

* * *

Severus sat in his armchair, slowly sipping whiskey from the small, crystal glass, staring at nothing in particular. His Death Eater robes were folded neatly over the back of his desk chair, his mask on the table, glinting ominously in the fire light. He knew he shouldn't be drinking, but after the day he had had, he felt he had every right to. He hadn't known what else to do. The drink had just seemed appealing. Besides, it was only his first drink so he wasn't in any danger of becoming a crazy drunk again; despite his bad day, he wouldn't let himself go there.

Severus Snape was in shock. He didn't know what to do. Things had definitely taken a confusing turn.

The day had started out as any other. He had gotten up, cursed the day, thought of Harry, smiled, remembered he had to teach first years, and fallen back into bed again. After he had finished teaching for the day however, he had felt the mark on his arm burn. So _he_ was calling a meeting – big deal; that was nothing new.

But the moment he had arrived at The Riddle House he knew something was wrong. He was the only Death Eater there for a start. And all the lights were on. The Dark Lord never used the muggle lighting unless he had to and that was usually when he was mad – the harsh electrical lights never hid his masters features like candle light did; he always looked eerie in dim light, but with the electrical lights on you couldn't miss his facial expressions. But perhaps the most obvious sign of all was the fact that the Dark Lord was stood opposite him, pointing his wand straight at him.

Severus had known there and then that he was in deep, deep shit. He knew. The Dark Lord _knew_. The Dark Lord knew all about Severus' dealings, his _true_ dealings, with the Order of the Phoenix. He knew Severus wasn't his most loyal, he knew Severus had betrayed him, he knew Severus was with the other side, plotting against him. He was with Dumbledore and Potter.

And so Severus had been subjected to curse after curse. Every time a curse was lifted, another one would be thrown at him. He had lain on the floor, knowing that this was it, that this was the end. He was going to die; the Dark Lord was going to kill him, end his pitiful life, a life which, until recently, had been filled with so much darkness and hopelessness.

But he hadn't.

Severus had lain there, waiting for his former master to utter the words (and that was all the Dark Lord needed to do, _utter_ the words, he was so unbelievably strong) that would bring about his death, the end of his life; but they hadn't come. Instead, the Dark Lord had _let him go._

And so here he was, back in his rooms, happy to be alive but confused as hell.

The moment he had arrived back at Hogwarts he had gone straight to Dumbledore who, in turn, had called an Order meeting. Severus had refused to attend; he'd given Albus the details of what had happened so there was no need for him to be present.

The news that Severus had been found out by the Dark Lord had greatly worried Albus. After all, the Order had been on a role, having just destroyed yet another Horcrux. Albus had fussed at great length about Severus' safety, urging the man to go into hiding; naturally, Severus had refused to do such a thing.

He sighed, feeling a horrible tightness in his chest as he did so. _What_ was the Dark Lord up to? Severus had a feeling he didn't want to know. He would never admit it out loud, but Severus was terrified. Terrified for the rest of the world, terrified for the lives of all the innocent people who were undoubtedly going to be slaughtered; terrified for Harry and terrified for himself.

But he didn't have time to dwell and panic; someone was knocking on his door.

Putting down his glass he pushed himself up and answered the door. His heart fluttered when he saw Harry standing there. He needed to see a friendly face; (who would have thought _Harry Potter_ would have become a 'friendly face'?)

"Mr Potter. I wasn't expecting to see you down here tonight. Shouldn't you be celebrating the end of the exams with the rest of your annoying little friends?"

"It's nice to see you too Snape," Harry smirked, pushing passed and into the dimly lit room.

Severus stood for a moment and watched Harry surveying the place. As usual, everything looked nice and cosy, everything in its place without looking too orderly. That was how Severus liked to live. He hated clutter; he couldn't understand how people could live in cluttered homes. To him, clutter was always a symbol of chaos and disorder. Severus much preferred his space. He was all for having a book tossed here and an ornament tossed there – it made the place more real – but, at the end of the day, space was definitely a necessity. He didn't know why he felt this way; he supposed it was something to do with his up bringing. His childhood home had always been a mess, full of dusty old photographs and cushions and things; walking in to a room at his home had always made him feel anxious, as though too much was going on at once.

He watched Harry spot the whiskey lying on the coffee table.

"I thought you didn't drink?"

"I'm on my first and I promise you it's my last." He smiled wearily at Harry as he shut the door and joined the other man, who had just taken a seat on the sofa. "I was enjoying a little celebration of my own."

"Oh?" said Harry. "And what's the occasion?"

"I never have to teach you brats ever again." He raised his glass in a toast and downed the rest of the contents.

"You know you love us all really," Harry teased. "Your life is going to be so dull now that you no longer have to teach us."

Snape huffed in amusement and put away the glass.

"So," he said, realising that Harry wasn't going to be going any time soon, (not that Severus wanted him to) "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I was bored and thought I might as well come see how you were getting on," said Harry. "We haven't seen each other in over a week you know."

"So that's why everything felt so peaceful and quiet."

"Haha." Harry leaned forwards and placed a quick kiss to Severus' cheek but when he pulled away, Severus threw out a hand and caught him.

"Have you been drinking?"

"Relax," he smiled, "I've only had three Butterbeers. Even Neville couldn't get drunk off that."

Severus chuckled and relaxed against the sofa. He knew Harry was an adult now and could take care of himself, but that didn't stop Severus worrying about him every now and then. He was, after all, the famous Harry Potter and he had dozens of enemies out there. And then there was also the fact that Harry, despite his strength, was a pretty vulnerable person at times. Growing up around relatives that gave him no affection the boy was bound to open up too soon. He had no experience dealing with 'real' life and Severus just wanted to make sure no harm came to him and that no one used him and took him for granted.

"So how did all your exams go?" he asked, making conversation. He still wasn't used to being around Harry; it had been such a long time since he'd had a relationship that wasn't based on sex and he wasn't exactly sure how to act. He still felt like he'd opened up too much to Harry already but, after all the home truths Harry had dished out about Severus a few weeks ago, he somehow thought he should make the effort to try and be himself, the 'Severus Snape' so few people had ever seen.

"They went great. I didn't realise I'd learnt so much."

"Did you say you wanted to be an Auror?"

"Yeah. I know it's really hard to get into and all but…it's always worth a shot right?"

"Of course. And even if you don't get the necessary grades, I'm sure the Minister would make an exception."

"That's exactly what Ginny said!"

"Smart girl."

"Yeah, well…I don't want any special favours. If I don't get the grades then I'm gonna go into something else."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it yet."

"You could always play Quidditch. England could do with you on their team; they're bloody crap at the minute. They haven't won a match in God knows how long!"

"You follow Quidditch?"

"Of course," said Severus. "Doesn't everyone?" He laughed at the look on Harry's face. The laughter, however, didn't quite reach his eyes. Harry had already succeeded in cheering him up without knowing it but that didn't mean he had forgotten. Seeing Harry happy made him feel worse; Harry didn't deserve this life; he didn't deserve whatever the Dark Lord was planning on throwing at him next, for the Dark Lord was definitely planning _something_, that was for sure.

"Hey," said Harry softly, reaching out to cover Severus' hand with his own, "What is it?"

"Nothing," he said, brushing his thoughts aside. "I'm fine."

"But something's bothering you. I can tell. You go all quiet and you're eyes fill with sadness when you have something horrible on your mind."

Severus was silent so Harry took that opportunity to make himself more comfortable. He climbed onto the mans lap and seated himself there so that his back was against Severus' chest. After much coaxing he finally got Severus to wrap his arms around him and Harry leaned his head against the other's shoulder. He sighed contently.

Severus looked down at Harry.

"You're a remarkable man Harry, you know that?"

"It's been said once or twice," he smiled, twisting his head to face Severus. "You do know you can talk to me, right? I don't know how many times I have to remind you of that, but you can."

"I know," he said with a soft, sad smile. All defences dropped, he leaned in and captured Harry's lips in his own, kissing softly and slowly before pulling away.

"Something's wrong," Harry said quietly. "What is it? Tell me. Please."

"It's nothing Harry. I've just had a bad day."

Harry sat quiet for a moment before tipping his head back and kissing the underside of Severus' chin.

"What are you doing?" Severus asked, wondering whether or not he should allow this.

"Seducing you," Harry whispered.

Before Severus could stop himself, before he could tell himself that this wasn't acceptable behaviour, he'd removed his arms from around the boy's waist in favour of them travelling down Harry's body towards his pants. They reached their destination and Harry moaned, arching his body into the touch. Harry was hard and, Goddamn it, so was Severus. Severus pulled his hands away.

"Why'd you stop?" Harry asked quietly, his breath hot against Severus' throat.

"We can't," Severus forced himself to say.

"Give me one good reason."

"I can give you far more than one, I assure you."

"But none of that matters," Harry said. "We're both adults here."

There was no arguing with that; the evidence was right there, creating a rather large bulge in Harry's pants. But this was still so wrong for a number of reasons. Even though Harry was 17 and of the age of consent in the wizarding world, he was still too young to be 'doing it' with his teacher. And that was another reason – Severus was his teacher. True, he didn't have to teach him anymore as lessons were over for the seventh years, and yes, they had already kissed…but this was so much more and Severus' body wanted this. It had been such a long time since he'd been made to feel wanted and loved and he craved that affection and closeness that Harry was offering.

Giving in, and hoping to Merlin that he wouldn't regret this later on, he unzipped Harry's trousers and pushed a hand underneath the material. He felt a jolt of excitement when his hand closed around its intended target and he gripped it tightly, lifting his own hips as he did so, rubbing against Harry. His mouth latched on to Harry's neck, sucking, licking, biting, and Harry, bless him, was arching and wriggling and moaning, ready to reach that point at any moment and Severus was lost in the sound of Harry and –

"Stop…stop," Harry suddenly panted and for a moment Severus thought Harry had changed his mind. His hand froze. But then Harry blushed.

"I'm not gonna last so long if you carry on," he said, breathing heavily. "I…I want you. Inside me. Please?"

Severus looked at Harry as if hoping for a sign that told him that this was a very bad idea. When none came, his reason left him. He wanted this, he wanted this closeness, this feeling and he wanted Harry to feel so much pleasure that nothing could ever compare.

Within moments they had both lost their shirts. Harry sat himself back on Severus' lap but this time he was facing the man. Severus pulled Harry's head closer and captured his lips once more and Harry kissed him back, hungrily, passionately. His skin was hot to the touch, flaming with desire and, with a growl, Severus held tightly to Harry and lifted them both up from the sofa, intent on heading towards the bedroom. They both stumbled around the furniture but Severus was careful not to knock into anything, trying to avoid stepping on Harry's toes as they went.

Somewhere in the back of his mind was the familiar nagging thought that this was wrong. He thought he should at least have one last attempt at convincing Harry that this was unacceptable.

"Harry, we shouldn't be doing this," whispered Severus, yet his words didn't have much meaning to them as at the same time he was running his hands all over Harry's warm chest.

"Oh, but we should," Harry murmured, arms wrapped around Severus' neck. "I've wanted this for so long."

"As have I Harry, but that doesn't make it right. I'm your teacher." He placed a contradictory kiss to Harry's neck.

"It doesn't matter," he said, revelling in Severus' attentions. "It doesn't matter as long as we both want this. Please Severus, I need this."

"You don't know what you're saying," he breathed, "You don't know what you ask for."

"But I do," he panted. "I want this, I know I want this. I want nothing else but this. Please. Give it to me. Make me scream."

That was all Severus needed. Forgetting his place, he backed Harry firmly into the wall and lifted the boy off his feet, feeling a sudden rush of pride when Harry wrapped his legs around his waist, bucking his hips into Severus'. Harry wanted _him_.

Making sure he had a proper hold on Harry before he attacked his soft, waiting lips, his hands moved to squeeze the young mans ass possessively. Nothing was held back as their passion was unleashed in a torrent of want and need.

Breaking away for air, Severus moved his lips to other, more delicate areas. Licking, nipping, and biting at the young mans neck, eliciting the sweetest moans he had ever heard, Severus found himself in paradise.

Pushing away thoughts of how wrong it all was, he removed a hand from Harry's rear and began to fumble with his own trousers. Once he had them undone, he began to push down Harry's. Then he stopped.

"You've done this before, correct?"

Harry answered by burying his head in Severus' shoulder. Severus froze.

"You're a virgin?"

"You say it like it's a bad thing," Harry murmured.

"I…" Severus began, trying to grasp what was actually going on. _Harry, here, untouched. _"I can't be your first Harry," he said, preparing to lower the boy to the ground, but Harry's legs tightened around his waist.

"Yes," Harry breathed, breathless with need, "Yes. Yes you can. You can Severus. Oh please! Please, you have to. Snape, please!"

"I'm your teacher," he said, although he knew, deep down, that that little piece of information didn't matter – not anymore; not to him, not to Harry.

"That hasn't stopped us so far," Harry pointed out, wriggling his hips.

"I'm so much older than you," Severus tried.

"Who gives a damn?"

"Harry," Severus shook his head, not wanting their short liaison to end, but knowing it had to. He couldn't do this to Harry; he loved him too much to be the one to strip him of his virginity. Severus didn't deserve that honour and he was sure Harry would live to regret giving it to him.

He'd been so sure Harry wasn't a virgin. He didn't know why exactly – he knew (and was extremely thankful) that the boy wasn't a slut, but…he'd just expected Harry to have already 'done the deed' so to speak.

"You're Harry Potter; everyone wants to sleep with you."

"I don't want to lose it to just anyone," Harry said softly.

"Then why are you sleeping with me?"

"Because you're _someone_."

Hearing those words, Severus couldn't have stopped even if he'd wanted to. No one had ever said such words to him and he was now very eager to show his appreciation. He continued fumbling with Harry's trousers whilst caressing his lips with his. As Harry wrapped his hands in Severus' long, black hair, trousers were dropped, quickly followed by boxer shorts and _oh my God_, the feeling was amazing! Hot skin against hot skin; no more layers, nothing standing in their way. They went for it.

* * *

**A/N:** Woooo! Sex! I did try to censor that little scene as much as possible without taking too much out, hence the reason why we don't actually see (or rather, 'read about') them having sex.


	11. Sacrifices

**Rating:** M 

**Warnings:** Slash, Mpreg

**Pairings:** SS/HP

**Genres:** Romance, Angst, Drama, Horror, Thriller

**Summary:** Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love.But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection- can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late?

* * *

**A/N:** **Sorry about the long wait but I've been really busy. And this chapter gave me a lot of problems (which is why its CRAP) but in the end I just had to give up. Please keep in mind that I wrote this at 5 in the morning!**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Sacrifices**

Severus awoke the next morning to find himself lying next to another person. It took him a few moments to remember the identity of that person and when he did he could have sworn he felt his heart freeze.

The events of the night before suddenly all came flooding back. The Dark Lord discovering his true identity; Harry coming to see him; Harry wanting him; Harry practically begging for him. And he, Severus, giving in

What the fuck had he done?

How could he have been so stupid? What the hell had happened to him? Severus Snape had shown his vulnerable side and he was surely going to pay for it now. He hadn't stopped to consider everything; he should have made Harry sit down so that they could discuss the pros and cons of what having sex would mean! They should have gone over, in detail, what each of them hoped to gain out of this relationship! They should have made out a list! Oh why hadn't they made out a list? Severus Snape always planned these things through!

What was he to do now? Would they find it awkward to be around each other? Would Harry want to see him again?

_Ok, ok, ok,_ Severus thought to himself. _I can make out a list. Ok. The pros – I like him and he, apparently, likes me. We're both adults. And the cons would be that we're 20 years apart and, despite what Harry says, he really is still my student until he graduates. _

Severus still had trouble trying to see why Harry was interested in him in the first place. It wasn't as if he was the most attractive person, what with his hooked nose, pale skin, and greasy hair. And had he been good enough for Harry last night in bed? It wasn't like Harry had anyone to compare him to, which, he supposed, was a plus (he mentally added that to his list) – but had he lived up to Harry's expectations? And would Harry be telling his friends about this?

And with _that_ train of thought, a horrible possibility struck Severus hard. _What if it had all been a joke?_ Some stupid game or dare given to Harry in order to humiliate the horrible Potions Professor? It was, after all, near the end of the school year. It certainly would be a good way for Harry and his friends to leave the school, knowing that they had finally gotten their own back on Snape for all the years of hassle he had given them. That would definitely be a worthy end-of-school Gryffindor prank.

And now the question was, yet again, _why?_ What had possessed him to think that fucking _Harry Potter_ senseless was a good idea? What good could _possibly_ have come out of this? What the _hell_ had Severus been expecting? Severus had never received love off anyone; what made Harry so different?

He'd let himself slide. He'd let the boy charm him. He'd been so overwhelmed with the knowledge that Harry actually _wanted_ him that he'd allowed himself to lose control. Severus Snape never lost control! Oh, he should have seen this coming a mile off.

But it was too late. He'd done it now. He'd let Harry in. He'd dropped his cruel façade and allowed someone to see the sensitive side of him – a side, Severus had to remind himself, that he was ashamed of! He didn't want people to think he could possibly care about them! And he certainly didn't want people to think that maybe they could be loved by him! But by letting Harry sleep with him…there was no going back now.

From the moment Severus' lips had touched Harry's out in the grounds that night, everything had begun to fall apart. No matter how strongly he felt towards Harry, he couldn't allow anything more to come of this.

If he allowed Potter to stay then, eventually, the boy would hurt him. Reality would hit him hard and he would run off with some good looking younger man. Severus didn't think he could cope with the hurt and the rejection that would bring. That was why he never let anyone in. Letting someone in meant trusting them and Severus Snape trusted no one.

_How could he have been so stupid? _

But what if Harry really _did_ have feelings for him? Severus had believed it up until now after all. But Severus still felt that horrible nagging…what if it really was all just a prank? The Gryffindor's were going to get a huge laugh out of this if it was. He'd be humiliated. He'd be the man who thought Harry Potter had actually wanted him.

Well, Severus Snape was _not_ going to allow that to happen, he was _not_ going to be humiliated, not if he could help it; not if he struck the first blow.

* * *

Harry awoke in a tangle of sheets to the sound of the shower. A content sigh escaped him at the memory of the night before and he stretched out luxuriously in the soft bed; _Snape's bed._

He couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed though. He'd had sex for the first time and he remembered being pretty vocal. But it had felt so good, so intense. Having Severus in him, thrusting, whilst his hands stroked Harry's hard cock…God, he had never felt anything like it, something so intimate, so sexual…

He couldn't keep himself from grinning as he lost himself in memories from the previous night. How lucky was he? To have found someone who could make him feel so…_alive_. He never wanted this feeling to go away.

The sound of the shower was shut off and he waited quietly for Severus to enter the bedroom. He hoped the other man was feeling as happy as he was. True, Harry did feel a little nervous about seeing him…what if Severus had thought sex with Harry was nothing compared to what he'd had before with other people? But there was always room for improvement, right? Harry was sure that, with enough practice, he would be able to fulfil Severus' every sexual desire. They'd had sex, yeah, but there was so much more for them to do…like blowjobs for instance! What was it like to be given one of them? And how would you go about giving someone else one? And why was it called a _blow_job…from what he'd heard from the guys in his dormitory, people tended to suck. Did you have to blow as well? And would that actually taste nice? Surely there was some sort of instruction guide he could get his hands on. As he was briefly entertaining the idea of going to Sirius and asking him how he should give Severus Snape a blowjob, the door to the bathroom opened and a fully dressed Snape swept in to the room. He didn't even look at Harry, something Harry was quick to pick up on. All thoughts of blowjobs were driven away.

* * *

"Are you OK?" asked Harry.

_Well,_ thought Severus, _someone had to break the silence._ Making sure his voice was calm and level, he replied, still keeping his back turned and busying himself with his clothes from the previous night.

"I thought you'd be gone by now."

There was a few moments pause before Harry spoke again and when he did his voice was full of confusion.

"Why would I be gone?"

"We both got what we wanted. You're of no use now." Severus hated himself for saying those words but he kept his cool, reminding himself of the humiliation he would be put through if he didn't do this. He was not going to let Potter win.

"What do you mean by that?"

"What do you think it means?" he uttered in irritation. "I wanted a fuck, you wanted a fuck, so we slept together. That's all there is to it Potter."

When Harry gave no answer, Severus turned round to look at the boy sat in his bed, wrapped in his sheets. He was staring at Severus in bewilderment, his eyes shining, his mouth slightly open.

"Is that what you think?" he asked, unbelievingly, "Is that what you really think this is?"

"Well why else would you be here Potter, if not for sex?"

"Because I like you?" Harry suggested in that 'isn't-it-obvious' tone of voice. When Severus gave no reaction, he shook his head and disbelief and continued. "I don't believe this. Do you really think I would sleep with just anyone? Especially when it was my first time! I wouldn't just give my body over to some stranger! What do you take me for?"

"If you were so bloody concerned about your precious virginity then why the hell did you go and sleep with me?"

"I thought that was obvious," Harry said, voice raising.

"Well clearly, it isn't, otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation," Severus snapped.

"I know I wanted last night to happen more than anything and I thought you did as well," said Harry, "So why are you acting like this?"

"Look," he said, trying to keep all emotion out of his voice, "I was caught up in the moment. I told you, I'd had a bad day. Don't expect anything from me Potter. I don't do relationships."

"So what the hell have these past weeks been about then?"

"You really thought I meant everything I've said? You really thought I wanted you? After everything your father did, after everything you've done?"

"Severus, please, would you just tell me what's going on here? I thought you were passed all that!"

"Potter, just get out."

"What?"

"Get _out_. I don't want you here; I don't want you in my bed, and I certainly don't want you in my life."

"But last night – "

"Last night was a mistake! I don't want you Potter! You thought you could humiliate me? Well the jokes on you. Now hurry up and scurry back to your little friends."

Even though he was very much positive that Harry's 'fascination' with him was all a joke and even though he knew Harry didn't really want him, Severus still felt horrible about doing all of this. Harry truly did sound like he was upset. But Severus just had to ignore that little detail. Harry was a cruel person out for revenge. Severus dealt with this every year (well, not _this_ exactly – Harry was the first one to pretend to have a crush on the professor), but every year a graduating Gryffindor would pull some stunt – although, in all honesty, he had never thought they would take things this far.

He closed his eyes, grimacing at the emotional pain cursing through him, before he opened them again and turned back to face Harry. The young man looked broken.

"But we slept together," Harry was saying, trying to understand. "We had sex."

"Well spotted," he muttered. "Yes, we had sex. And although it was quite enjoyable, I've had better – much better." And gathering all his strength to him, he stood up straight, folded his arms, and smirked at Harry.

"Run along Harry. I have work to do."

* * *

Harry had been sat on the shower floor for almost an hour when there was a knock at the door. He ignored it, hoping it would go away. He really didn't feel up to explaining to Ron and Hermione (or anyone for that matter) why he was half sat, half curled up on the bathroom floor, letting the water from the shower wash over him.

How could Snape have done that to him? No, scratch that. How could _Harry_ have been so stupid? He knew what Snape was like! How could Harry have let himself believe that Snape actually saw something in him? Severus Snape did _not_ fall in love! Hell, Harry Potter did not fall in love – well, he wasn't supposed to. And he certainly wasn't supposed to fall for stupid potions teachers! The whole idea was preposterous! And yet…here he was, sitting naked in the shower, wallowing in self pity.

He had never felt so _humiliated_ in all his life! He cringed when he remembered the words they had exchanged the night before…it was so unlike him! But then again, love has a habit of changing people…of bringing out the best in them…and the worst.

Last night, Snape had taken Harry for granted. Harry had been so caught up in all these feelings and emotions that were so brand new to him that he had failed to listen to reason. He had let himself be used by Snape. Snape didn't love him! He didn't even want him! He felt so embarrassed!

The knocking on the door persisted and again he ignored it. There were hundreds of other bathrooms in the castle – if whoever it was was _that_ desperate then they could go and find another one to use.

He let his head fall back against the tiled wall and he slid back into his thoughts, dimly aware of his scar starting to throb. He cringed. Because of that damn connection Harry had with the Dark Lord, Voldemort probably knew what Harry was going through right now. _I bet he's laughing about it with all his stupid Death Eaters…_

The banging on the door interrupted his thoughts once more and Harry growled. Unable to stand it much longer, he pushed himself up and shut off the shower before spelling himself dry. There had to be somewhere in this damn castle where he could be left in peace!

* * *

The roof. You couldn't find a more peaceful place to be than on the roof. He stood there, gazing out over the battlements at the school grounds, taking in the sparkling lake twinkling in the sunlight, the clear blue sky with not a cloud in sight, and the blossoming trees, so full and colourful. It was the perfect Springtime morning.

Leaning against the stone wall, he looked down below. Whereas the rest of the school grounds was bathed in sunlight, the grass directly below him lay in shade from the castle. If he looked carefully he could even see a few birds hopping around.

It was such a long way down. Not that he was going to jump – even Harry wasn't that melodramatic. But he did sort of like the idea of pushing one Severus Snape off…

He'd been a fool, really, to trust Severus. He should have had more sense than to believe him. After all, who would ever like Harry? Everyone just wanted _Harry Potter_. They didn't seem to realise that he, too, had wants and needs. Yes, he was rich. And yes, he was famous. But Harry would gladly give all that up in a heartbeat if it meant someone would love him and hold him.

He'd thought Severus was the same. Like Harry, people only knew the person that had been presented to them. They only knew Severus Snape to be a bitter, evil man, just like they all thought Harry to be this perfect, innocent hero.

Clearly, he'd been wrong. Severus Snape really was bitter and evil.

But there was one thing in the back of Harry's mind that kept troubling him and that was what Severus had said right before he'd thrown him out.

"_You thought you could humiliate me? Well the jokes on you."_

What the hell was that supposed to mean? A part of Harry wanted to believe that the man was just as insecure as Harry was…maybe Severus had thought Harry to be playing a joke on him? But that didn't seem very likely. As much as he'd learnt about his Professor over the passed few months, he didn't seem the type to…well…

Harry sighed. He honestly hadn't a clue what to think anymore. Severus Snape was one confusing man, but if he could cause Harry this much hurt then he wasn't worth bothering with. Harry had tried to be nice, he'd tried to show the man that he could be trusted and that he had genuinely wanted him…again, Severus Snape was just too confusing.

Maybe it was Harry's fault? Maybe he'd come on too strong? Perhaps having sex so early in their relationship hadn't been the best idea…yeah, that was probably it; he'd scared him off. But then why had Snape gone and said all those awful things?

A sudden breeze whipped Harry's hair round his face and he reached up a hand to push it out of his eyes. Shaking his head and ignoring the gentle throb in his scar, he looked down again at the grounds. He watched on lazily as the clouds above cast shadows on the ground, moving across the sky and covering the area in shade.

Hang on. There were no clouds.

Looking up, he found himself staring at angry grey sky. As he watched, slightly confused, the newly-formed clouds tumbled across the skies, swallowing the sun. The wind picked up and Harry's robes began flapping madly about him.

Frowning at the sudden change in weather, he looked back out over the school grounds. The trees were swaying madly and the lake was tossing and turning, splashing violently against the banks and boulders. The forest began to creak and the wind howled as it whipped through and around the many battlements and towers of the ancient castle.

But just as Harry was about to turn round and head back inside to shelter, something caught his eye. He froze. Over by the main gates that separated the school from the village, were figures; _black-cloaked, hooded figures_. Hundreds of them. And they were heading this way.

Brain kicking into gear and legs springing into action, Harry ran back down into the school and along the corridors, pushing passed anyone who got in his way. Heart beating madly as he skidded round corners, he ran and he ran, not stopping until he reached the Headmasters office. Shouting the password at the gargoyle, he sprinted up the stairs two at a time and flew through the door. Dumbledore and Snape stared at him.

"Harry my boy, I know I let you get away with quite a lot of things, but you really must knock before –"

"Death Eaters!" he shouted, catching his breath. "There are hundreds of them, heading this way!"

For a split second, Dumbledore looked lost for words. He then stood up abruptly.

"Severus, alert the Order at once. Tell them to portkey themselves here and to meet in the Entrance Hall. Everard," he said, turning to one of the many portraits on the wall, "Raise the alarm at the Ministry. Tell them Hogwarts is under attack. I'll alert the Minister myself." And with that Dumbledore began to follow Severus out of the room; the portraits were in uproar, flitting into each others frames to discuss this sudden move and Fawkes had let out a high note before disappearing in a flash of light; but before the Headmaster could disappear, Harry spoke up.

"What about me?"

The portraits quietened down as Dumbledore turned to look at him and Harry could tell the old man was deeply troubled.

"I _want_ to tell you to remain here," he said, worry etched into the lines of his face.

"But you know I wont," said Harry.

Dumbledore sighed deeply and reached out and gripped Harry's shoulder in what could have been considered an affectionate way, before disappearing through the door.

Harry stood there, breathing deeply, trying to clam himself down. Was this it? Was it all about to end? Would Voldemort show up? Should Harry be out there even if he didn't?

It wasn't until he heard Dumbledore's voice echoing through the building, ordering all students to return to their common rooms, that Harry realised that a good few minutes had passed since he'd been stood alone in the Headmasters office. Making up his mind, Harry sprinted back out into the corridors which were now full of frantic students.

He flew down the many halls and up the many staircases, pushing everyone to the side and taking as many shortcuts as he could possibly take. Upon reaching the common room he ordered all Gryffindor's out of his way and jumped through the entrance hole and was just about to dash up the stairs to his dormitory when his friends spotted him.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, running over to meet Harry. "Why's everyone being ordered to stay in their rooms?"

"Death Eaters," Harry told them, trying to keep his voice down so as not to raise even more of a panic. "There's loads of them. They must have found a way to get passed the wards."

"Oh God!" Hermione began to shake. "What about the Order, and the Ministry Auror's?"

"Snape and Dumbledore are alerting them as we speak. There's gonna be fight and…and this might be it. I just came back to collect some things." And before they could say another word, he'd disappeared up the stairs to pick up his broom and map, which he pocketed safely before returning to the common room.

As soon as he made a break for the exit, Ron and Hermione headed him off. Stopping in his tracks, he turned to them. He knew what was about to happen. He knew what they were going to say. But there was no way he was going to let them come with him, not Ron and Hermione, not his best friends.

But just as this thought was passing through his head, Hermione grabbed hold of his shoulder.

"I don't like that look on your face Harry," she said. "Whatever you're thinking, stop."

"I can't let you guys do this," he said; the whole common room had gone quiet just to listen to what was being discussed between the golden trio. "I won't let you come with me."

"Harry James Potter, you stop that right now!" Hermione ordered. "We're coming with you and that's final."

"Mate," said Ron, speaking up, "After everything we've done together you can't expect us to let you go at this alone?"

"But this is Voldemort we're talking about!" he shouted.

"And it was Voldemort back in our first year with the Philosopher's Stone!" Ron shot back. "It was Voldemort in the Chamber of Secrets! It was Voldemort at the Ministry! That monster has slaughtered so many innocent people and has ruined so many lives! We're a part of this war and we're not gonna sit back watch him destroy everything that's left, not if we can help it!"

Harry was momentarily stunned. That was the very first time Ron had ever used Voldemort's name. Like most, Ron had been brought up to fear that name, surrounded by people who shuddered at the mere mention of it; yet here he was, surrounded by the whole of Gryffindor, shouting out the Dark Lord's name, when the man in question could very well be in the school grounds.

"He has an army out there!" Harry shouted, pointing to the back of the portrait hole; the pain in his scar was growing hotter and he was becoming frantic; "We go out there and we may never come back!"

"Last year we promised you that we would always be here for you," said Hermione quietly. "We said that we would be with you no matter what."

"We'll follow you to the very end Harry," said Ron.

"You're my best friends. It's too dangerous."

"Exactly!" said Ron. "You're gonna need someone to watch your back whilst you do your stuff."

"Ron, no!" Harry said forcefully. "I can't let you do this! If something happened to either of you I'd never be able to forgive myself!"

"And if something happened to _you_ then we would never be able to forgive ourselves!" Hermione said fiercely. "We're coming with you Harry and that's final!"

Harry opened his mouth to argue but the look in Hermione's eyes made him stop. As much as he wanted to stop them from walking out into battle, he knew there wasn't a thing in the world that he could say to change their minds.

Harry just stood there, unable to move. What had he done to deserve such amazing friends? And just how had all this come about? It was hard to believe that only a few hours ago he was waking up next to Snape and now the castle was being attacked! What the hell was going on? Surely they would have had some sort of warning! Snape was the spy for crying out loud – it was his job to inform Dumbledore of these things! Unless…Snape was one of them! He was a true Death Eater! Why else would he have been in Dumbledore's office just now, if not to distract him? And his sleeping with Harry…that had all just been one sick joke!

But the man had trained him for battle. That had to count for something right?

"Harry!" Hermione shouted. "Come on!" Harry looked up and saw that she was already moving towards the exit, where the last few students were clambering through.

Right. Voldemort.

"Where're we going?" Hermione asked.

"The roof," said Harry. "We can make our way down from there."

"Hang on then, let me get my broom," said Ron and he disappeared up the stone stairs, returning half a minute later.

The rest of the common room just watched as the trio exited the room, the portrait shutting ominously behind them.

Everything suddenly seemed surreal. Ever since Dumbledore had told him about the Prophecy that fateful night two years ago, the rest of his life had seemed to fall into place, and after learning about the Horcruxes, his path had been laid out in front of him. But to know that he had finally walked that path and had reached his destination was…well, it was something he had never experienced before. But to have his two best friends with him, to know that they were behind him in all of this, that they were willing to fight by his side…

When they reached the door to the roof it was only to find that the castle had sealed it shut and it soon became apparent that no amount of magic was going to break it open. Giving in, and growing increasingly anxious, they ran back down the spiral stairs and along the corridor, looking for another exit. However, another exit was impossible to find – half way along the corridor that led out of Gryffindor Tower, double doors had sprung up and were locked tight, preventing anyone from escaping. Again, no amount of magic was able to break through. Annoyed, Harry stormed into an empty classroom.

"There has to be a way out of here!"

"All doors leading to the roof and to other parts of the castle are locked," said Hermione. "Unless there's some secret passageway that isn't shown on the map…"

"There has to be something the castle overlooked," said Harry, pacing back and forth.

"Like?"

"I don't know," he said, "Like a loose wall or a window or…_a window!_ That's it!"

"The castle isn't stupid, Harry! The window's will be protected against all sorts of magic that could possibly break them."

"Then what do you suppose we do then, huh? Sit here and wait for them to come and get us?"

"They won't be able to get us; the castle has sealed us in."

"Oh, so then we starve to death do we? Wait here until all the food and drink is gone? Hermione, we have to do something! It's worth a try isn't it? Besides, I'm betting the castle didn't think to protect the windows from one thing."

"And what would that be?" she asked. Harry walked over to one of the classroom windows and held the broomstick tight in his hand.

"The muggle way," he said, and he rammed the broom into the window with all his strength and, just as he had predicted, the glass shattered.

"Nice one!" said Ron, coming over to join him.

"I'll go first," said Harry and he carefully climbed up onto the stone window ledge, keeping his back flat against the wall. Gripping his broom tightly, he peered over the edge. It wasn't that he was scared of heights – far from it in fact. No, what worried him as he stood there was what was waiting on the ground below. The full force of what he was about to do had just hit him; when he stepped off this ledge that would be it – the fight would begin and the war would end. This was what it all led up to. When he stepped off that ledge, it would be the beginning of the end. And he didn't know if he would come out of it alive.

"Come on," said Harry quietly, putting on a brave face for his two best friends, "You can ride with me." He held out his hand to Hermione. Off in the distance he could hear something similar to canon fire – the fight must have started.

"Harry," Hermione said, holding tight to his hand but staying where she was, "Where were you last night?"

His eyes snapped back to her, but she didn't sound suspicious. Her chest was rising and falling with heavy breathing and her skin had gone slightly pale.

"I'll tell you after this is all over," he said, making eye contact with her and giving her hand a squeeze.

"Promise?" she asked.

"I promise." He held tight to her hand as she climbed up onto the ledge shakily. He knew what that promise meant to her; it meant he was going to do everything in his power to survive this war; it meant that they were all going to be there at the end. Harry wasn't one to break his promises. And once this was all over, once he had defeated the Dark Lord once and for all, he would tell them – he would make damn sure that he was still around to tell them.

* * *

**A/N: Again, sorry for crapiness in that chapter. Like I said, I'd had enough with it and it was driving me insane. But hey, at least its a post! And now that I have that chapter out of the way, updates should become more frequent again (plus I want it all posted before Book 7 comes out and this is actually a Trilogy!)**

**Please Review! x**


	12. Life and Death

**Rating:** M 

**Warnings:** Slash, Mpreg

**Pairings:** SS/HP

**Genres:** Romance, Angst, Drama, Horror, Thriller

**Summary:** Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love. But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection- can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late?

* * *

**A/N: **lol, this chapter makes me laugh coz it's so _very _obviously rushed! In my defence, I _**hate**_ writing about fights and battles. But at least after this chapter that will all be out the way and I can be getting back to writing snarry again!

* * *

**Chapter 12: Life and Death**

Ron grabbed hold of Hermione's other hand as Harry manoeuvred around so that he was able to hold his broomstick out of the window. Once he was sure it was steady, he slowly let go of Hermione and climbed onto his broom. He stomach was doing somersaults and his heart was drumming against his ribs, but he wouldn't let any of it show on his face – he needed to be brave for Ron and for Hermione.

With the help of Ron, Hermione managed to climb onto the back of Harry's broom and lock her arms around his waist in a tight grip. She lay her head on his shoulder and watched as Ron readied his own broomstick.

"Nervous?" asked Hermione, as they flew over the empty courtyard; it was so strange it see it empty at this time of day.

"Like hell," he said. He still couldn't seem to grasp the fact that this was reality; he was flying out to possibly meet Voldemort one-on-one. It was definitely a lot sooner that he had planned and he was beginning to regret his decision to come out and fight – he hadn't said goodbye to Ginny or Neville and Sirius and Remus. What if he never came back?

"Harry," Hermione said into his back, "Why did you lock yourself in the bathroom this morning?"

He gulped. He wanted desperately for Snape to be the last thing on his on mind, but the pain the older man had caused Harry only hours ago was just too fresh. If he survived this then he would have to tell the others about it all – he _had_ promised. But what would they think of him?

"That story is for another time," he said, slowing his broom and ducking behind a tower. The wand fire's below were getting louder now and he could here people yelling and shouting various curses and hexes. He made sure Ron was still behind him and slowly rounded the tower. Hermione gasped. They all gasped.

To say that Voldemort's army had grown immensely would be an understatement because what Harry was looking at now was absolute hell.

The large stretch of land beside the lake was swarming with the hooded Death Eaters. Red and green flashes of light were emitting from their wands, some curses hitting their victims hard, some being reflected. Order members and some of the professors were scattered amongst silver-clad Aurors, giving as good as they got.

As far as Harry could tell however, the dark side seemed to be outnumbered; now, to someone who wasn't as clued in to the dark side as Harry was, this would have seemed like a good thing; but Harry knew better - the Dark Lord would not attack Hogwarts without having _every_ possible weapon with him. This fight was far from over.

But something amongst all of this caught Harry's eye and the Death Eaters quickly became the least of his worries. The forbidden forest seemed alive with movement. Black, scurrying things were hurrying out passed the trees and Harry recognized them at once to be the dreaded Acromantula he had come across in his second year. But Harry doubted they were coming to the aid of Hogwarts; if anything, it seemed as if they were fleeing from something that was heading their way, something that was knocking tree over and causing the ground to shake.

A dozen giants were on their way, but whose side were they on?

"Where is he?" asked Ron, coming up alongside Harry. "Can you see him?"

"Who?"

"V…Vol...You-Know-Who," he finally managed to say; now that they were out of the safety of the castle, Ron's courage seemed to have failed, at least when it came to saying the Dark Lord's name.

"Not yet," said Harry, scanning the grounds. "But he's close – I can feel him."

Indeed, Harry could sense that Voldemort was somewhere in the grounds; but where, he didn't know. The Dark Lord hadn't fired a single curse yet – instead, he was stood somewhere, enjoying the battle.

"Well," said Ron, looking down and noting what Harry had, "At least we have an advantage in numbers."

"But a disadvantage with beasts," said Hermione. "What we see down there is no way near the full extent of what Voldemort is capable of. He'll send in more of his army soon enough. Those we see down there are just his pawns – he has yet to unleash the worst."

Looking around at the masses of duelling bodies down below, Harry decided it was best if they landed – the last thing they needed was for someone to catch sight of them hovering above.

Indicting that Ron should follow, Harry turned his broom and flew over the ancient castle, grateful for the cover the many towers provided. As they were coming to land however, something caught Harry's eye again. the wouldn'

Harry watched as a tall, dark figure dodged numerous curses that were being fired his way. A group of Death Eaters ran at him, firing streams of multicoloured lights from their wands, but the figure evaded them all. The man dived behind a clump of bushes and broke into a roll which brought him straight back to his feet, long enough to fire a well aimed curse at an advancing Death Eater, before diving behind a rock. Harry knew this man – after spending months with him, being trained, he'd recognise those graceful moves anywhere; it was Snape.

But why was Snape being attacked by Death Eaters? Wasn't he one of the sadistic Death Eaters himself? Or was he really still with the Order? Had he been found out? Had his cover been blown?

"So," said Ron, still surveying the scene, "What's our plan of attack?"

"You two are going to stay here," said Harry as he landed by a clump of rose bushes, "Whilst I go out there and fight."

"Come off it Harry," said Ron. "You seriously think we're just gonna sit here and watch you risk your life?"

"Rather my life than yours!"

Hermione sighed. "I thought we'd just been through all this?"

"Guys, please," he said, close to begging, "I can't concentrate on Voldemort knowing that you two are out there. I shouldn't have let you come with me in the first place!"

"We wouldn't have _let_ you go alone," said Hermione. "You could have said anything and we would have still followed you. Now come on," she said, pulling out her wand, "We have work to do."

And with that, Hermione went out onto the battlefield. Ron followed and, after taking a deep breath and praying to God, Merlin, and Gryffindor, Harry, too, joined the fight.

* * *

Severus shot multiple spells and curses at the advancing Death Eaters, jumping out of the way when one of them shot back, running further and further away, ducking and dodging. A vicious female voice yelled "Crucio" and Severus only just managed to jump out of the way in time. He took a second to catch his breath before standing up and throwing out more curses and heading for the cover of the forest, despite the fact that giants were on their way; after all, the Death Eaters were out for his blood and they wouldn't stop until they had his head on a stick.

"Sectumsempra!" he yelled, pointing his wand at no Death Eater in particular. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his spell hit one of them and promptly start tearing them to pieces, but he didn't have time to stop and admire his work. He darted forwards and hid himself in the shadows.

Once in the forest, he performed a few healing charms on himself to heal the cuts that had been caused by stray spells. Gathering his breath, he chanced a look back out at the fight. Nearest the castle doors stood Albus Dumbledore; for an old man, the Headmaster looked terrifying, stood defending the door, firing curse after curse at the Death Eaters who were stupid enough to go near him. Severus also spotted the Minister for Magic, Refus Scrimgeour, surrounded by Auror's. Severus scoffed; all these people were risking their lives, and there was the Minister, surrounded by his own personal bodyguards. It wasn't as if magical England was going to fall into chaos and disorder if the Minister died…with the exception of the Dark Lord winning this war, things really couldn't get any worse. And besides, the Minister could be easily replaced; there were plenty of witches and wizards better suited for the job.

Turning away, Severus rested his head on the tree he was currently sheltering behind. It was hard to believe that this morning he'd woken up after spending the night with Harry Potter – _devious, spiteful Harry Potter._

No. That wasn't right.

Deep down, Severus knew Harry would never do something like that. He should have trusted the boy – he did, in a way. But perhaps he'd trusted him too much. Or perhaps Severus was just too paranoid when it came to relationships? After all, he hadn't had that much experience himself. He was just so used to people turning round and laughing at him…he had never really known what to expect with Harry.

And now Harry, poor heartbroken Harry, was here, fighting Death Eaters, fighting for his life and for the future of everyone else. Severus had slept with him, kicked him out, and had sent him out to war!

The tree he was leaning on vibrated slightly as a giant footfall was heard off in the distance. Severus shook his head and stood up straight; now was not the time to be thinking about what he'd done to Harry. He needed to be out there fighting and making goddamn sure Harry survived!

Raising his wand, he peeked out from his hiding place. An Auror was locked in battle with Death Eater nearby. Taking aim, Severus shot the much-too-familiar killing curse at the hooded man and headed back onto the field, just in time to see a large group of dark figures floating across the like. Dementors.

* * *

Harry had just finished casting _Sectumsempra _on a Death Eater when he felt the horrible feeling of his chest filling with ice. It was hard to tell if anyone else around him felt it, as they continued to lock with each other in duels; but then again, Harry had always felt the effects more so than others.

Shaking his head and trying to ignore his parents' voices that had started in his head, he looked over at the wind-tossed lake. He'd been dreading this; _Dementors_, and Harry didn't have a single happy thought to use! All that was on his mind was his friends and Snape and this war. He'd have to let someone else deal with it.

Staggering a little, he turned around and saw that he'd been spotted by two more smirking Death Eaters. He raised his wand and tried to blast them back, but they shielded themselves and continued to advance. Harry couldn't understand why the Dementors weren't effecting them…this really wasn't fair, to attack him when he was in this state! But then again, none of this was fair.

Realising that he was in no fit state to fight until the Dementors had been dealt with, he turned and stumbled off, pushing in between people and being careful not to get in the way of any spells.

As he neared the lake, it became apparent that people _were_ actually being affected by the on-coming ghouls. People, particularly the Death Eaters, were moving a bit sluggishly as they were forced to relive their worst memories. Looking up, he noticed that some Aurors were at the waters edge, each casting their own Patronus.

The voices in Harry's head got louder and he stumbled to the ground. _This was stupid._ If no one got rid of them soon, he'd pass out! Gripping his wand tightly, he pointed his wand out at the lake; "_Expecto Patronum!_" A puff of smoke escaped his wand but nothing more. "_Expecto Patronum!_" Again, just a thin wisp of smoke. Shit.

_Goddamn Snape, taking away my happy memories_, he thought angrily as he gripped his wand to him. He could feel himself begin to slip in and out of consciousness; only with sheer will was he holding on, forcing his eyes to remain open. But just as he thought he was going to pass out, he heard Ron and Hermione's voices.

"_Expecto Patronum!_"

He looked up and to his amazement he saw a shiny silver Jack Russell and Otter dashing straight for the Dementors.

For the first time, he was immensely glad his friends had come with him.

"Harry, are you ok?" asked Ron, running over to him once the Dementors had disappeared; Hermione was helping an injured Auror.

"Yeah," he said, getting up off the ground. "That was amazing, well done!"

"It was nothing," smiled Ron. "Are you sure you're alright though? You're dead pale."

"I'll be fine in a minute," he assured him. "I just need to – " But his sentence was cut short by a loud squawk from above them which was promptly followed by a scream.

"HERMIONE!"

At Ron's cry, Harry whipped round just in time to see Hermione being swept away in the talons of a gigantic, monstrous bird. Harry watched, horrified, as the creature flew high over the battle field, Hermione dangling dangerously, clutched in its claws. Her screams mingled with the yells and cries from those immersed in the battle below.

Harry pushed and blasted his way through the fighting crowds, keeping his eyes on the beast that had a hold of his friend. But as he was just summoning his broom to him, intent on flying after the bird, it dropped her; it relaxed its grip, opened its claws, and dropped her – right above the lake!

What happened next happened so fast, Harry wasn't sure how he'd done it.

Leaning forwards and flattening himself against the broom, he accelerated. But just as he was getting himself into position, ready to catch the falling girl any second, his broom was stunned. Harry watched, horrified, as Hermione's body fell passed him just mere inches away. Any second now, she was going to hit the rough, violent waters below with such force…!

Harry jumped. It was all he could do.

Falling through the sky and heading towards a possible death, Harry stretched forwards, willing with all his might that he would fall faster.

And too his astonishment, he felt himself speeding up! But he didn't think about that; the chill wind was slapping his face and multicoloured spells were being fired in his direction, but all that mattered was that he was going to reach her! He was almost there, he was closing in on her…!

He extended his arms, tightened them around her waist, pulled himself towards her, and wrapped himself around her body. And then they hit the water.

Strangely, it didn't hurt one bit. He felt the water of the lake engulf them both; he felt the sudden coldness of the water hit his body; he felt his body tingle all over, he felt the waves tumbling above him, he even felt a sort of weightlessness as he floated for a moment, deep beneath the waters surface…but it didn't hurt.

Keeping Hermione close to him, he swam with all his might, but the vicious waves kept driving them back down. But he wasn't going to be beaten that easy. He kicked hard, urging himself higher and higher, fighting against the strength of the water. He could see a shimmer of light above the surface and he forced himself up, kicking hard with his legs.

The moment he broke the surface he was pushed back underneath. He tightened his grip on Hermione with one hand and with the other he fought with the waves, breaking the surface again but this time long enough to notice that he was right near the edge of the lake. Ducking back under, he swam forwards, heading for the bank. His extended hand connected with a muddy surface and he dug his nails in, pulling himself forwards. He broke the surface of the water for the final time and was able to stay above it.

Harry pulled himself up and crawled onto land, dragging Hermione with him. He was vaguely thankful that there was a bush just further up, providing cover, when Ron dashed over and dropped to his knees besides them. will of light above the waters was nothing in the lake that was attacking him., fighting against the strenght that he would fa

"Hermione! Hermione, are you alright? Is she alright? Harry, are you alright? Are you both alright?!"

"She's breathing," Harry said, checking for a pulse. "She'll be ok."

Ron nodded. He was shaking uncontrollably. Harry reached out and put a comforting hand on his friends shoulder.

"She isn't hurt," he reassured him.

Ron nodded again.

Breathing deeply, Harry tried to gather his thoughts to him. Hermione had almost died! They had almost lost her forever to the icy depths of the lake and whatever resided in it. If that had happened, Harry would never have been able to forgive himself; he should have put up a stronger fight when he'd been trying to make them stay in the castle. This wasn't just a fight with some Death Eaters – this was a war; people were dying all around them.

"Harry, are you all ok?"

Harry looked around. Remus running over to them. His robes were torn and were stained with blood, whether his or someone else's Harry didn't know.

"I think so," said Harry. "Hermione's unconscious but breathing and Ron's in shock."

"I'm not surprised. It all happened so fast! How were you even able to reach her in time? What you did just then was physically impossible!"

"Magic I guess." In truth, Harry didn't even know himself what had happened. He shouldn't have been able to fall that quickly, he knew that. But he had. He'd felt as if he'd been almost flying through the air. And it should have hurt like hell when they'd smashed through the water's choppy surface.

"Oi! Rem! Get your ass back out on the battle field, you lazy queer!"

Remus rolled his eyes as he and Harry both turned to see Sirius jogging towards them. Like Remus, his robes were torn in places and were soiled with dirt and blood. When Sirius reached them, he tossed his long black hair over his shoulder – surprisingly, not a hair was out of place.

"Can you believe it?" Sirius complained, looking down at his robes. "These were brand new! And now look at them!"

"How's your hair like that?" asked Remus.

"Like what?"

"Perfect."

"I charmed it," Sirius said smugly. "I thought the Death Eaters would like to see something pretty before they died."

"You are so vain. How do I even put up with you?"

"You couldn't survive without me, Moony," he smiled. Before Remus could think of something appropriate to reply with, Sirius had pulled him close and had dipped him, like a dancer dips a partner, and was kissing him. Harry heard Remus giggle and he looked at them in disbelief.

"Err...guys?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think we could be getting back to, you know – the war?"

"Right." Sirius released Remus with one last kiss and stood, mock-serious, hands on hips, looking at him.

"Mr Moony, what exactly do you think you are doing over here?"

"I was _seeing_ if your _Godson_ was alright," Remus shot at him.

Sirius looked Harry up and down before turning back to Remus with a smirk.

"He's fine. Now go kill some more Death Eaters; they ain't gonna kill themselves you know."

"Obviously," Remus muttered. "If they did then this war would be a hell of a lot easier."

As Remus walked away, Sirius addressed Harry and Ron.

"Are you two gonna be alright?" he asked.

"Fine," said Harry. "We just need to move Hermione out of the way and…oh shit!"

Sirius spun around at Harry's exclamation.

"Inferi!"

"You go ahead," said Harry, "I'm just going to make sure Hermione's somewhere safe."

As Sirius ran off, Harry turned back to his two friends. Ron was still shaking and looking down at his girlfriend but Harry really didn't have time for comforting words right now.

"Levitate her to somewhere out of the way," he told Ron, "Like round the corner of the school or something. If an Inferius comes this way, remember to use _Incendio,_ ok? Ron, have you got that? Ron?"

"Yes, yeah, I…I got it. Incendio. But where are you going?"

"Where else?" he said, "I'm going to find Voldemort."

Harry took one last look at Ron and Hermione before heading after Sirius and Remus. He wanted to stay with his friends, to make sure they were alright, but he knew he had other things to do.

Calling on all his skills he had learnt from Professor Snape, Harry weaved his way through the masses of bodies. Amazingly, he slipped passed almost as if he were invisible; not one curse was fired at him and no one tried to halt his path. As he progressed, he began to see more and more familiar faces; McGonagall was locked in a duel with a skinny Death Eater, both of them firing spell after spell. Little Professor Flitwick, a duelling champion, was dashing about swiftly, attacking all the Death Eaters he came across in the vicinity. As Harry weaved around him, vaguely aware that there were now a few dragons flying above, he saw Dumbledore fending off five Death Eaters at once – Harry was surprised at how fast the old man could move. Harry watched as the masked figures fell to the floor, one after the other; they were no match for good old Dumbledore.

Tearing his eyes away from his Headmaster, he pressed forwards. He wasn't sure where he was heading. All he knew was that his scar was hurting and if he walked in this direction it throbbed a little bit more.

He'd barely moved passed the Headmaster when he heard screams and looked around. There, stood by the forest, was a giant, having finally emerged, and it was pretty clear to all that this one was under the control of Lord Voldemort. Its hands were raised above its head and in them it clutched a large boulder. Heart beating a mile an hour, Harry frantically looked at all the people locked in duels. Many Aurors and Death Eaters stood in the line of fire and they would surely be crushed to death.

"Look out!" Harry screamed but it was no good – he couldn't be heard above all the noise. All he could do was watch in pure horror as the giant threw the boulder forwards. He heard the panicked screams erupt from the intended victims, he saw them stop duelling in order to escape the oncoming weapon. But it was too late. The boulder landed. They were crushed.

Harry was stunned. He had never witnessed such gruesome slaughter. He couldn't imagine what it must feel like, to die in such a way. All he wanted to do at this moment in time was to fall to his knees and cry his heart out. This wasn't right; this just wasn't right at all. All these people shouldn't be dying; this war should not be happening on the very grounds of Hogwarts! Murderers, beasts, dark wizards…they should not be anywhere near the school!

How had things come to this? How had they managed to let Voldemort gain control again?

A deafening thud reached his ears and he looked towards the castle. More giants had emerged out of the forest and were now throwing boulders at the castle walls, trying to break them down. Harry knew Hogwarts would be able to defend herself – she had innumerable wards guarding her after all. But something was tugging at Harry; if _he_ had been able to break out of the castle by force, then the giants would be able to break in.

As Harry watched, terrified faces appeared in the windows. The students could undoubtedly hear the giants trying to get in and were straining to see what was going on. He prayed the castle could hold on long enough.

He turned his back to the school and set off again.

The moment his scar exploded with pain, he knew he had reached his destination. He looked up and, as he had expected, there he stood, in all his nightmarish glory; the Dark Lord Voldemort.

He was clad in weightless, clean, black robes, his hood pulled over his head causing his face to remain hidden in shadow. But Harry could see those evil, snakelike eyes glaring out of the darkness, staring at a figure ahead of him – even though Harry felt sorry for the person who had unwittingly captured the Dark Lord's attention, he was immensely glad that he himself hadn't been spotted by him yet. He did all he could to ignore the agonizing pain in his scar as he gripped his wand tightly.

Nobody seemed to have noticed the fact that the Dark Lord had just stepped into the battle field. Around them, the Ministry, Order, and Death Eaters continued to fight each other, firing and blocking spells, unaware that Voldemort was now in their midst, raising his wand to bring down the poor, unfortunate person he had set his sights on…who just happened to be Professor Severus Snape!

Without pausing to think what he was doing, Harry darted forwards and the moment Voldemort said "_Avada Kedavra_", Harry aimed his wand at Voldemort's and yelled "_Expelliarmus!_"

As had once happened before, the green jet of light from Voldemort's wand and the red stream from Harry's clashed together in mid-air. The beams of light turned a deep golden colour, but before the beads could appear and before the wands floated them to a clearing, Harry pulled his wand up and broke the connection, glaring at Voldemort and breathing deeply.

In seemed an age passed as they stood still, facing one another. The various fights continued around them but Snape was the only person who took notice of the two men. The sounds of the battle assaulted him as he stood, staring, waiting. Behind him, Harry could hear the loud thuds as the boulders hit the castle walls; he could hear spells and curses being yelled and the screams of people as they were hit. He could hear the engine of what had to be the Weasley's wild car as it sped by, knocking into Death Eaters, sending them under its wheels. Above him the dragons roared and he heard the crackle of fire as they sent their fiery breath at the giants and Death Eaters on the ground below,

Eventually, slowly, Voldemort moved. He reached up with his spindly fingers and lowered his hood. His pale face loomed out at him and he smirked at Harry, staring him in the eye. Harry knew it wasn't a good idea to look back at him – after all, Voldemort was an excellent Legimens – but he didn't want to seem weak; and besides, what was there left to hide? He held Voldemort's gaze, doing his best to lock his mind, thinking of nothing but blackness.

"You think you can kill me Harry?" he hissed, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Harry didn't answer – he wasn't about to risk losing his concentration and opening his mind.

"It's going to take a lot more than a simple killing curse to kill me Harry."

Harry was all too aware of that fact already. Which reminded him…there was still one more Horcrux left…oh, fuck., he'd forgotten about that!

But before he could even begin to think of what he should do to get himself out of the mess he'd just landed himself in, Voldemort struck; "Crucio!"

Harry felt the effects of the curse immediately. He felt as if his body was on fire, the pain was that intense. He was shaking uncontrollably, screaming out in pure agony. And then it was over. The curse was lifted and Harry, still shaking, pulled himself to his feet. He couldn't afford to be hit by that again – it left him far too vulnerable.

"Did you like that?" asked Voldemort, smirking madly. "Do you want some more?"

This time, Harry was ready. As Voldemort was uttering the words, Harry cast a spell of his own. Again, the wands connected, and again, Harry broke it off before it became too much. Voldemort sneered and cast another and Harry did the same. Again and again it happened, and each time it did, Harry become increasingly grateful for the special connection their wands shared; it might not enable him to cast a successful spell at the Dark Lord but it sure was saving his life.

They continued in this way for some time, firing curses and having their wands automatically defend them. Around them, the fighting crowds had become aware of what was going on and some had even stopped in favour of watching. However, the giants' assault on the castle was still going on and the dragons high above were shooting their fiery breath towards one another, holding their own little war in the sky.

As Harry defended himself yet again, he realised that he couldn't keep this up forever. Sooner or later one of them was going to slip up and Harry had a horrible feeling it would be himself; he bones were aching and he was already growing tired.

But then a stray curse from one of the Auror's was fired at Voldemort and, to Harry's joy, the Dark Lord lost his footing for a moment and stumbled to the side. Harry took his chance; summoning all his anger and loathing, he pointed his wand at Voldemort and yelled the killing curse.

He watched as it hit Voldemort in the side of his stomach, knocking the man off his feet. But then, to his utter horror, he saw that the green beam of light had bounced off the man! Harry only just managed to duck out of the way in time and when he looked up, Voldemort was on his feet once more and Harry had never seen such an evil smirk.

"You fool, Potter!" Voldemort laughed madly, "You can't kill me! No one can!"

The words hadn't finished leaving his mouth when Harry was, yet again, forced to duck. Nagini had appeared out of nowhere and she had been poised to strike at Harry when he'd heard Severus' voice.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Harry jumped half a mile at the _bang_ the curse made when it came into contact with the snake. He watched as a wisp of black smoke escaped the slimy body – the remains of Voldemort's soul; Snape had destroyed the final Horcrux.

Harry quickly turned his attentions back to Voldemort as if looking for some confirmation and to his great relief, the Dark Lord looked furious. The terrified look in his evil eyes gave him away – he was just beginning to realise that all of his precious Horcruxes had been destroyed. Now all that was left was the piece of flith that resided in his inhuman, pale body.

They both immediately jumped into action, firing curse after curse at each other. But no matter how many times Harry cast a spell, the wands would just not allow them to hit. He tried moving closer to Voldemort to see if he could get a better shot but the Dark Lord just moved away, slashing his wand in the air angrily. Their steps sped up and so did their incantations; Harry was having to wave his wand in all directions now in order to protect himself. People were screaming and cheering, curses were flying in all directions; Voldemort was now screaming his curses, putting everything he had behind them; Harry's arm was hurting, his legs were surely going to give in with exhaustion…

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Harry didn't have time to jump out of the way.

He felt the curse hit his chest with such brutal force that his body was flung back. When he hit the earth he was painfully winded and his chest tightened as he tried to gasp for breath but his body wouldn't let the oxygen in. He tried to move his arm, to reach for something, _anything_, but it was frozen; he couldn't even blink. He was paralyzed.

As Harry had fallen, a shocked silence had fallen over the grounds. But now that the others could see Harry lying still, eyes wide open, the realisation of what had happened was sinking in; gasps, sobs, screams. Sheer panic and pure terror. Distress and heartache. _Harry Potter was dead!_

But Harry Potter _wasn't_ dead. Couldn't they see that?

Harry struggled with all his might to move. He tried casting non-verbal, wandless magic but nothing was working. He prayed to God – _let me move, let me move!_ He may not be dead just yet but he would be soon if he wasn't granted a breath of oxygen. He willed himself to breathe in, to move a finger, a toe, anything! He tried casting spells again but it was hopeless. He couldn't breath – he was surely going to die!

And then…he blinked. He did it again. And then he breathed in some much needed air.

His arm hurt from being trapped underneath him. His leg hurt from being stuck at such an uncomfortable angle. He wiggled his fingers and toes and made his hand into a fist.

_He could move! _

Just as that jubilant thought passed through his head, all his senses and feelings returned to him. He rolled over, grabbed his wand, and stood up.

"Oi!" Harry shouted, raising his wand. When Voldemort turned to face him, Harry was ready. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

An angry green jet of light screamed towards Voldemort and hit him right where his heart should have been. His body was blasted through the air, looking like nothing more than a rag doll, before landing in a nasty pile of limbs a few feet from the crowds. He was dead.

Everyone went wild. The Death Eaters went crazy, shooting every curse that existed in all directions. Many of them threw Unforgivables at Harry, who had been stood still, staring at Voldemort's broken body. He briefly remembered Hagrid barrelling into him and knocking him off his feet before everything went dark.

* * *

The last thing Severus remembered before he fell was watching Harry fall. A green jet of light had flown at his Harry and had hit him with such force that it was surprising the boy didn't have a hole in his chest. Instead, he had watched on in pure terror as Harry's body had been thrown into the air, returning to the ground completely lifeless. Harry's soul – his poor, innocent soul – would have made its inevitable way upwards, to peace, to serenity, to paradise.

And it wasn't like Severus could spend eternity with his Harry either. Because Severus' soul had been sent in the opposite direction.

Severus was dead, he was sure of it. He had been hit by the killing curse and carted off to the fiery depths of Hell to be made to pay for his sins for the rest of eternity. Why else would he be surrounded by the tortured cries of so many souls? Why else was there such a strong, bright light trying to penetrate his closed eyelids? Before he had died, the lands had been bathed in darkness. The light had to be coming from the Fires of Hell. Severus was terrified of opening his eyes.

He tried to stay as still as he could but it was no easy feat. He could sense that he was not alone. In fact, he could have sworn that there were hands touching him, shaking him, saying his name. He screwed his eyes tight shut, refusing to look up, refusing to let the demons of Hell trick him.

There it was again. His name being said. But…he was sure he recognised that voice. Was it his father? Well, that wouldn't surprise him. That old man was in Hell for sure. But no, the voice wasn't as harsh as his fathers. Dumbledore? Yes, that voice belonged to Dumbledore! But…hang on…what was Albus Dumbledore doing in Hell?

"Severus? Severus can you hear me? Severus?"

Severus grunted in response and turned his head to the side. More screams, more names being called out. Dumbledore speaking to him again. A terrible pain in his right arm.

"Severus, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"My arm," he managed to breath.

"Try to open your eyes Severus. Can you sit up?"

"Am I dead?"

"No, my boy. You are not dead. Now come on, I need you to sit up."

'Sitting up' was something that was a lot easier said than done. There were horrible shooting pains running up and down his right arm and his back felt as stiff as a board. He groaned in pain and shook his head.

"I can't. It hurts. Where am I?"

"You're at Hogwarts. You're safe. The war is over."

"Harry…where's my Harry? I was so mean to him. Is he ok?"

"Harry is fine, my boy, don't worry. Hagrid shielded him from the worst of the curses. They are both resting in the Hospital Wing."

"But he died! I saw it, I watched him die! Harry's dead and I never got a chance to say sorry! Harry's dead! Albus, he's – "

"Calm yourself, Severus. Harry is not dead, I can promise you that. Now you hang in there whilst I take you to the Hospital Wing."

Severus felt a sense of weightlessness as he was somehow lifted off the ground. What was Albus talking about? Of course Harry was dead – he'd seen him die with his own eyes! What was going on? Was this a dream? Was Severus actually dead? He hoped he wasn't – he had so many things to set in order, so many things to put right…he needed to make it up to Harry! But wait…Harry was dead. Wasn't he?

* * *

Harry lay in his favourite hospital bed and wiggled his fingers and toes. He was alive, Ron and Hermione were alive, Sirius and Remus were alive, and Hagrid was alive. He sighed and snuggled into his bed covers, readying himself for a good nights sleep.

He hoped Severus was alive as well.

* * *

**A/N 1:** No, that is NOT the end. There's a few more chapters to go until it ends, and then there's a sequel which is pretty much already written and is so much more light-hearted than this one. But, alas, everything needs a beginning...

**A/N 2:** I know a lot of you were asking for me to post the un-edited version of chapter 10. If I do get round to that then I'll let you all know.

Thank you all so much for your reviews last chapter!


	13. Aftermath

**Rating:** M 

**Warnings:** Slash, Mpreg

**Pairings:** SS/HP

**Genres:** Romance, Angst, Drama, Horror, Thriller

**Summary:** Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love. But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection - can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late?

* * *

**A/N:** I couldn't sleep so I decided to post this...at 6:50 in the morning. Sorry if there're are any random sentences in it - sometimes when I upload things, sentences I had deleated just appear...in this case, today it has decided to make my page break markers disappear so sorry if I miss any.

* * *

Chapter 13: Aftermath 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined the mournful crowd as they made their slow way back up to the ancient castle. The air was full of sobs and cries as the loved ones of the deceased let forth their sorrow. It seemed wrong somehow that there were birds singing in the trees.

It had been a week since the defeat of Voldemort and Dumbledore had thought it best that a memorial stone be placed in the grounds, commemorating the names of all the witches and wizards that had been lost during the course of the war. A service had been held, to which everyone had been invited to attend. Various funerals had already been held by different families, but for some the memorial meant a lot – quite a few bodies had been utterly destroyed during the Final Battle, making a proper burial impossible.

Many people had died during the course of the three year war. The final total of losses had amounted to a horrible 266, and that wasn't including muggles or Death Eaters. _The Daily Prophet_ had said that it "could have been worse" but to Harry and everyone else, 266 was 266 too many.

Many parties had been held all over the world, rejoicing that the Dark Lord Voldemort was no more. But back at Hogwarts, where the Final Battle had taken place, the students and local residents hadn't felt much like celebrating.

But despite all of this, the past week had turned out to be one of the craziest weeks Harry had ever had. Everywhere he went he was followed by large groups of girls asking him for his autograph. He couldn't even go to the bathroom in peace and had taken to journeying all the way back to Gryffindor Tower if he needed the toilet.

Every single newspaper and magazine had contacted him for interviews and photo-shoots – he'd even heard from a few book publishers, asking him if he was interested in bringing out an autobiography (and, which was probably most daunting of all, the Muggle Relations Office, asking him if he would possibly allow the muggles to make a movie of his seven years at Hogwarts). Naturally, Harry had refused, preferring to leave the publicity side of things to Dumbledore and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix (although he had been made to promise to give one major interview when he felt up to it – even Dumbledore felt that at least one was needed at some point and, even though he was reluctant, Harry had agreed.)

Photographers and Journalists were now camped out in Hogsmeade (Dumbledore had refused to let them into the school grounds) and were throwing questions at anyone who walked through the gates. Every minute of every day, Harry received letters and gifts from different parts of the world, all from people congratulating him and thanking him. Even Ron and Hermione (along with everyone from the Order) had received letters, praising them for all they had done.

All in all, it had been a very busy, very overwhelming week. He'd spent the last couple of days in his room, locked away from the prying eyes of the students. Today had been the first time he'd stepped foot outdoors all week and that was only because of the memorial service. Now he was heading back to his room once more.

Late at night, when he couldn't sleep, his mind would go over everything that had happened during his last year at the school. A small part of him had thought that he wouldn't have survived, but here he was, alive and well. And so were his friends. Ron and Hermione were still here, and so was Hagrid (brave Hagrid who had taken a bunch of nasty curses for Harry), and Sirius and Remus and McGonagall and Dumbledore (Harry had a feeling Dumbledore would always be there.)

And Snape had survived too. The moment he'd woken up from his sleep in the Hospital Wing, he'd seen him lying in a bed across from him, all tucked up with his arm in a sling. It had been Snape who had saved him from being torn to pieces by Nagini…Snape who had destroyed the last Horcrux, leaving Harry's way to Voldemort unobstructed. When Dumbledore had come to visit the patients later on that day, Harry had asked him about Snape and why Voldemort had been about to kill him when Harry had found him. It turned out that Snape's cover had been blown the day before.

Harry had wanted to be there when Severus woke up and to thank him for saving his life and helping him, but he'd decided that that was a bad idea. After all, the man had been incredibly mean to him after they had slept together.

So Harry had made himself scarce. He hadn't seen Severus since then, although he knew he was around. Maybe one day they would talk again.

But for now, Harry didn't want to bother himself over that. A huge part of his life had ended with the downfall of Voldemort and now that he found himself free he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He was certain, however, that once school finished he would like to go travelling; he'd never been on holiday before and he liked the idea of seeing world. When he had been younger, he had loved to sit and stare at the world maps on his classroom walls or else flick through Geography books and look at the beautiful pictures of countryside's and cites, promising himself that one day he would get to see these places for real. There was nothing stopping him now; he had the money, he had the time. _Yes,_ he thought to himself, _once school ends, my new life begins._

* * *

Three weeks later and the only place Harry felt like going was bed. _Damn house-elves and their new exotic food!_

For the first time in a month, Harry had been planning on getting out of the castle for a bit and going shopping in Hogsmeade with his friends. It would do him good to get some fresh air and enjoy himself, despite the fact that he would be hounded by the press. But, as Hermione had said, "you can't kill a Dark Lord and expect to be left in peace."

However, as it was most likely that Harry had caught food poisoning (_that was the last time he was going to eat something he didn't recognise!_) it looked as though he would be spending the day feeling horrible.

Well, at least he didn't have diarrhoea. That was something.

"Are you sure you don't want come?" asked Ron

"Yeah," he groaned, shrugging off his robe, "I'm going to have a lie down, I'm not feeling too good."

"You do look a bit on the pale side," said Ron. "I _did_ tell you not to eat that weird chicken thing. Do you want me to stay here?"

"No, you go, its ok. I'll be fine after I've had some sleep."

"Ok, well, do you want me to bring you anything back?"

Harry shook his head and got under his covers. "No," he said, snuggling down, "I'm fine. I'll see you later."

Harry ended up sleeping through the rest of the afternoon and night and when morning came he felt much better. He guessed it hadn't been food poisoning after all, but one of them silly 24 hour things. Whatever it was, he was just glad it had passed.

After he had showered and dressed, he spent the rest of the morning in the common room talking to Ron and Hermione and discussing possible future careers (yet again!). Hermione had finally decided that, if the Ministry pulled its act together, then she would maybe want to work there, but she was still unsure about which department. Ron, like Harry, was still considering becoming an Auror. They couldn't really decide without seeing their exam results though.

Eventually, as the common room began to empty as people went to breakfast, they stood and joined the others on their way to the Great Hall. Having missed dinner the previous night, due to being fast asleep, Harry's stomach soon started grumbling.

The walk down to breakfast was predictable. The three of them were bombarded with autograph requests and people were asking them all sorts of questions. Colin Creevey didn't really help with his camera either.

Eventually, they made it to the Great Hall and managed to make it over to the Gryffindor table before they were mobbed again. Dean, Seamus, and the others were already there.

Harry wrinkled his nose at the smell of coffee and sat down.

"Morning," Ginny smiled at them. "You feeling any better Harry?"

"Much," he said, although the smell of coffee was starting to upset his stomach.

"Turns out it wasn't food poisoning," Ron told her. "He probably just wanted to spend the day in bed."

"I was ill and you know it," said Harry. "Although the stench of coffee's starting to make me feel a little queasy," he added, pushing the mug away.

He moved to pick up the plate of sausages, thought better of it, and picked up a piece of toast instead. Perhaps he wasn't over his illness after all. The very thought of eating a full English breakfast was enough to turn his stomach.

He poured himself a glass of water and tucked into his toast as Hermione, next to him, began to make herself a bacon butty and to his other side, Ron began to munch on a chocolate bar.

"You seen the paper today?" asked Neville, nodding at the folded copy that was lying next to the juice jug.

"You're still making the front page," Seamus told Harry. "It's been a month and still all they can talk about is the war."

"Well it's a big deal isn't it," Ron pointed out. "He's 17 and he killed the Dark Lord. Not to mention everything else that's happened over the years. Crikey," said Ron, looking at Harry now, "You must be one of the most powerful wizards in the world!"

"You've only just realised that Ronald?" asked Ginny. "He survived the killing curse when he was a baby and he did it again a month again, not to mention that he was practically _flying_ when he saved Hermione, just before killing You-Know-Who. Of course he's powerful!"

"I know but…it just never occurred to me. Wow…this is so cool!"

Harry sighed and continued to eat his breakfast. He didn't like to talk about it, but the fact was he really was incredibly powerful. Dumbledore had explained to him how Harry had managed to save Hermione – apparently, when he felt most need to, he was able to control his magic to an extent where there really were no limits. When Hermione had been falling he'd wanted nothing more than to save her. Dumbledore had told him that Harry's body had responded to this and his magic had done all it could to help, propelling him on and then wrapping him in a tight cocoon of protective spells. It had only happened to Dumbledore three times in his long life.

As for how Harry had survived the killing curse, Dumbledore could only put that down to power. Sure, people had survived killing curses when cast by a weak witch or wizard, but to survive one from a powerful wizard like Voldemort…

He shook his head clear and got back to his toast. Some things in life were just too confusing. He tuned himself back in to the conversation around him.

"It's not fair," Ginny was saying, digging at her food with her fork. "All you guys will be gone next year. It's gonna be so boring."

"You only have one more year left," said Hermione. "I'm sure it will fly by.

"Yeah…" she sighed. "Hey, but at least we'll have a fun summer! Don't forget we have to go to Bill's wedding."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that!" said Hermione. "Have they decided where it's going to be then?"

"Yup. It's in France at their home."

"You mean 'Palace'," said Ron. "That place is bloody huge! I don't see why they need a place that big; there're only seven of them living there."

"Don't forget all their maids though," Ginny reminded him.

"How many brothers and sisters does she have again?" asked Harry.

"Two younger brothers, one older sister, and one younger sister who you've already met. The brothers and the older sister are kind of annoying."

"'Kind of'? Ginny, another day with them and I would have killed myself!"

The others laughed as they continued to discuss the wedding. Harry had never been to France or a wedding before so he was actually looking forward to it.

As talk turned to Quidditch, Ron started on his third chocolate bar.

"Hey, you want some?" he asked and he held it out to Harry. Suddenly, Harry's stomach lurched. The smell of chocolate coupled with the nasty aroma of the coffee made him want to gag; his stomach started to grumble angrily and before he could do anything, Harry was doubled over, bringing his food back up.

* * *

"You've caught a nasty bug there, Harry," said Hermione sympathetically. "What you need is plenty of bed rest. And make sure you drink lots of water."

"I'm fine, really," he tired to assure her. "It's probably just one of them 24 hours bugs."

"You weren't feeling that good yesterday," she pointed out. "There's no point in trying to make excuses, Harry. You're ill and I'm taking care of you. Now, can I get you anything?"

"How about some chocolate and coffee?" joked Seamus. Harry groaned; it made him feel sick just thinking about it.

"Just some water please," he said to Hermione. "Cold. With ice."

"Hermione, I have a tummy ache," Ron whined, "Please can I have some apple pie?"

"And my throat hurts," said Dean, clutching at his neck dramatically, "Can you get me some ice-cream?"

"Haha," muttered Harry. "Very funny."

"Well you can't really expect to be a drama queen and get away with it can you?" Seamus teased.

"I am _not_ being a drama queen!" he protested. "It's not my fault Hermione wants to wait on me hand and foot, catering to my every need."

"Now, now boys," said Hermione sternly, although she was smiling, "Don't argue; Harry needs his rest."

"I do not need rest. I need fresh air and peace and quiet. And my ice cold water."

* * *

A few days later, Dumbledore made an announcement at dinner.

"In celebration of the defeat of Lord Voldemort, Hogwarts is going to be hosting a ball," he said, smiling around the hall. All around him, people were smiling and whispering excitedly to each other. Harry should have guessed this was coming really – it had been a month after the Final Battle after all and so far the students hadn't held a party of their own, having been more concerned with the memorial and the loss of loved ones.

"However, it won't be just any ball," Dumbledore continued. "Members of the local public will be welcomed, along with the Ministry. We can also expect journalists and photographers to show up, which means you all have to be on your best behaviour." (Here, Dumbledore smiled his eye-twinkling smile.) "The ball will be held next week, which will hopefully give you all time to prepare. Posters will be going up around the school with further details."

"Fantastic," Hermione smiled, "It will be like having a Prom before we leave."

"Except it will be swarming with members of the press," said Harry.

"Well, they have to snap pictures of you sometime," said Hermione. "You are, after all, everyone's hero."

"Whose side are you on?"

"Yours of course!" she said, "But the public do need something, sooner or later. Perhaps you should think about giving that interview and getting it out of the way."

* * *

Harry spent the next couple of days moping around Gryffindor Tower and feeling like shit. All he wanted to do was sleep and when he wasn't sleeping he was complaining to anyone who would listen about how lousy he felt.

On Monday evening he was to be found curled up on the sofa, listening to his friends chattering away. He'd actually been sick earlier on in the day and since then Hermione had been on at him to go and see the school nurse. Right now though, she was immersed in conversation with Ginny and Harry was glad she'd finally stopped going on at him.

Behind him, he heard the portrait hole open and close and Lavender appeared.

"Guess what!" she squealed, coming over and joining her fellow seventh years around the empty fire place.

"You've won a lifetime's supply of beauty products?" guessed Seamus, sitting up.

"You're gonna be the face of the new Black Magic Mascara line?" said Dean.

"Oh! You got that job at Viovet Fashion?" enquired Hermione.

"No, if only, and I wish!" she said, sitting on the arm of the sofa. "Viovet is the most powerful fashion label there is the in Wizarding World! Imagine what it would be like to be one of their models! I really do hope they get back to me though; I have all the qualifications."

"Exactly what qualifications do you need to become a supermodel?" asked Ron, pushing himself up on his elbows and looking over at her.

"You can't be serious?" she asked, then rolled her eyes. "Good looks, good figure, good features, tall, able to walk in high heels –"

"No, I meant what magical qualifications do you need?" Ron said, before Lavender could continue ticking off her ego on her fingers again.

"Nothing really," she said with a shrug, "Although I think it would help if I had some, you know? I don't want to be seen as all boobs and no brains."

Ginny and Hermione looked at each other, but chose not to say anything.

"Well," said Dean, "I think you've got brains as well as boobs."

"Aww," she smiled, her eyes lighting up, "That's so sweet of you. Isn't that sweet?"

"Sickly," muttered Hermione, but Harry and Ginny were the only ones who heard her.

"So," said Ginny, moving the conversation along, "What was it you were going to tell us?"

"Wha - ? Oh yeah! My good news. Guess what?"

"You've won a lifetime's supply of beauty products?" guessed Seamus.

"Didn't we just do all this?" asked Hermione. "What's the news Lavender?"

"Well," she said with a big smile, "I'm going to be an auntie!"

"Aw, that's great!"

"Congatulations!"

"That's well ace!"

"I know," she smiled at them, "Me, somebody's aunt!"

"Who's baby is it? Your brother's or sister's?"

"Timothy, my big brother," she told them. "He just found out he's two months pregnant! He and his boyfriend have been trying for ages."

"_He_ just found out?" asked Harry. "Can guys get pregnant?"

"Of course they can!" she laughed. "Everybody knows that!"

"I didn't!" said Ron indignantly.

"Worried you might be pregnant as well Ron?" teased Ginny.

"Haha," he threw at her sarcastically.

They continued to talk about Lavender's brother, suggesting all sorts of presents she could dote upon her new nephew or niece, but Harry wasn't listening to any of them. His mind was stuck on one thing and his heart was beating fast in his chest.

Men can get pregnant. Ohhhh shit.

But there had to be another explanation for why Harry had been feeling like this. He couldn't just start jumping to conclusions now could he? That wouldn't do him any good. What he needed to do was approach this with a level head…he needed to keep his calm…be rational…

Harry became aware that Lavender had disappeared and he looked up to see the others following her out of the portrait hole – it was dinner time. Ron and Hermione were still sat with him, packing away there things.

"That's really great for Lavender," smiled Hermione. "I wish I had a baby brother or sister. Or even a niece or nephew. All I've got is cousins."

Harry jumped at the chance. "How exactly does a guy get pregnant?" he asked in what he hoped was an inconspicuous way. "Does he have to use some potion for it to happen?"

"No, not usually," said Hermione, fastening her bag. "It just comes about the same way a heterosexual couple's pregnancy would."

"Oh," he said, tying to look only half interested. "So I suppose the symptoms would be the same then, yeah?"

She lifted her bag onto her shoulder and flicked a strand of loose hair out of her face to look over at Harry.

"You know," she said, as Ron hurried off to place his bag in the dormitory, "You never did tell me where you were that night."

"What night?"

"That night before the final battle," she said. "I asked you that day, just before we went out of the window, and you said you'd tell us after. You never did."

"Oh," he said, caught out, "Well, you know…it doesn't matter now really…water under the bridge."

"But you promised," she pressed. "You promised to tell us after we all made it through that ordeal. Well, we made it through Harry – we're still here."

"Yeah, I know, but…it's complicated…and it's not really something I want to talk about after all this time, you know?"

"Ok," she said fairly, "Ok, that's fine. I don't want to make you talk about something you'd rather not."

Ron came back down the stairs and Harry turned to go, but Hermione gave her schoolbag to Ron.

"Could you put that in your dormitory? I'll pick it up later."

"But I'm hungry," he moaned, but he reached out and took the bag all the same. Hermione turned back to Harry and he sighed.

"Why all the intrigue about male pregnancy?" she asked.

"I was just interested, that's all," he shrugged.

"Why were you asking about the symptoms?"

"Like I said, I was just interested, ok? Now can we please go to dinner?"

"Does this interest in male pregnancy have anything to do with that night you went missing?"

"No, Hermione, it doesn't, ok? Now drop it. Please."

* * *

Harry lay awake that night, listening to the familiar snores of Neville and the soft patter of summer rain drops outside the window. His eyes were tired but his mind wouldn't stop racing. Ok, so he had thrown up a few times…but that was probably because of the heat. Or something he ate. Or both.

But seriously, what were the chances of him being pregnant? He was Harry Potter – nothing like this was going to happen to him. He dealt with wars and Dark Lords and Death Eaters, not babies and families and all that!

Maybe he should order a book on male pregnancy? Or he could go and get a pregnancy test? But that was impossible…he couldn't even go down to breakfast without someone asking for his autograph…imagine what walking into a clinic and asking for a pregnancy test would be like!

Perhaps he should go and ask the school nurse. She was always helpful. But no…he couldn't go to her about this, not without someone with him…

Knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep until his mind was put to rest, he got out of bed and padded down to the common room.

Pulling out his wand he sent a message to Hermione. Dumbledore had taught him how to do that little trick a while back in case he had ever been in an isolated position with no escape or no means of communication. Thankfully, he had never had to use it.

He sat down on the sofa and curled his legs beneath him, clicking his fingers to light the fire. He wasn't planning on telling Hermione everything, but he did, however, need her help; he was at a loss and he hadn't a clue what to do – he had never thought that he would find himself in such a position.

He heard soft steps on the stairs behind him and knew that they belonged to Hermione. She shuffled into view and Harry saw that her hair was all tussled and her eyes were droopy, but when she spoke her voice was full of her normal energy.

"What's wrong? Is everything alright?"

"Not really," he muttered, looking away. "I need you to help with me something."

"Is this something to do with pregnancy?" she asked knowingly. Harry nodded.

"I need to know what…what the symptoms are…and stuff…"

"I'll be right back," she said, and before he could reply, she had disappeared back up the stone stairs. A moment later she reappeared, carrying a large book in her hands.

"This will tell you everything," she said, dropping to her knees and opening the book on the small table in front of them. "It does have a small section on male pregnancy but it isn't that useful. But as the symptoms are pretty much the same with both sexes then I'm sure it will be fine for getting along with just now…ah, here we were; _Top ten signs you might be pregnant_," she read aloud.

"Hermione," said Harry before she could continue, "Can I ask why you already have a book on pregnancy?"

"I got it out earlier today," she said. "You don't honestly think that when you said there was nothing wrong with you that I believed it, did you? I thought I had better get a book out, just in case. I was going to get one out on male pregnancy but I thought it might draw too much attention when I checked it out with Madam Pince. If you ask me, Hogwarts really should do a few classes on Sex Education though. Right," she said, turning her attention back to the book, "the symptoms. "_Tender, swollen breasts_…well that's no good, you don't have breasts…_Fatigue…Increased levels of the hormone progesterone and the stress your body undergoes as it adapts to pregnancy can make you feel as if you've run a marathon_…

"Yes, that's exactly how I've been feeling like!"

"_Implantation bleeding_…well, you don't actually have a vagina so…_Nausea or vomiting_…_most women_…I suppose that can apply to men…_won't feel this until about a month after conception_…"

"Shit. It's been a month since I slept with –" he caught himself just in time, but she was now looking at him as if waiting for him to finish his sentence. He looked away from her. There was no way he was going to tell her, he felt humiliated enough as it was!

"_Increased sensitivity to odours_…" she finally continued, and Harry felt it was safe to look at her again. "You did say the other day that that coffee was making you feel sick…_Food aversions…You may suddenly find that certain foods you used to enjoy are now completely repulsive to you. This feeling may come and go, or even last, throughout your pregnancy. _I've noticed you haven't been eating chocolate cake at meal times for a while," she said. Harry said nothing.

"_Frequent urination_…that's not supposed to start yet, but have you –" Harry shook his head before she could finish. "Ok then," she said, "Er…next we have…_a missed period_…I don't think that one will affect you somehow…next is…_basal body temperature_…again, I don't think that really applies here…ok, the last one…_a pregnancy test." _She shut the book and lay it on the table.

"I'm not going out and getting a pregnancy test," he said, arms folded. "Do you have any idea what the press would make of that? And I have that stupid ball to go to in three days. The last thing I need is to be hounded by bloody paparazzi!"

"I know Harry," she said sympathetically, "Which was why I was going to offer to go out and get you one. But," she said, before Harry could thank her, "I really think that seeing a doctor would be a much better option."

"What? And have them tell –"

"They aren't allowed to tell anyone Harry," she said, "Everything that is said between you and a doctor is strictly confidential."

"Yeah, well, I haven't really got time to be going to London right now…"

"You don't have to," she said, "Madam Pomfrey is a fully qualified healer."

"Hermione, no! I am not having anyone in this school know about this! Look, this is embarrassing enough without having the school nurse know about it all."

"What's embarrassing about it?" she demanded. "Harry, you may have conceived a child! Yes, you may be a little young for that, but you have proved so many times that you can handle anything. Harry, conception is natural."

"Natural in women!"

"And for gay men in the wizarding world! Harry, there is nothing embarrassing about this."

"There is about how the conception came about!" he yelled. "You don't know…you couldn't possibly understand…"

"Then tell me Harry," she pleaded, "Give me the chance to understand. I want to help you."

"You can't help me!" he shouted at her, standing up.

"How do you know if you won't tell me the full story?"

When he didn't reply, she came over to him and places a hand on his shoulder.

"Harry, just come with me now and we can go and see what Madam Pomfrey has to say, alright? She won't tell anyone; we can trust her. She'll be able to help you. Please?"

He pushed her hand away and moved over to the empty table on the corner. The fire light didn't quite reach here so he was safe, hidden in the shadows.

Hermione really wanted to help him, and Harry knew that if he didn't find out just what exactly was going on inside his body then he wouldn't be able to think about anything else. At least if he knew what the situation was he could start to focus on it more and decide just what he wanted to do. But…he couldn't be pregnant. He just couldn't. It was absurd! The very idea that he, Harry Potter, saviour to the wizarding world, was pregnant…well, it was laughable really. After everything he had been through…he deserved a break. No more drama, no more scandal…he just wanted to live and be happy and have no worries. He couldn't have a baby. Not now. Not with…Snape.

"Alright," he said, sighing. "Alright. I'll go and see her."

"Good," she said, and she grabbed his arm and led him out of the common room before he could change his mind.

The corridors were empty of all students and teachers and they didn't encountered a single ghost. He supposed that, now that the war had ended, there was no need for anyone to patrol the corridors all through the night.

They continued on their way, Harry wishing he had thought to put on a pair of slippers as his feet repeatedly came into contact with the cold stone floor.

Finally, they reached the hospital wing and he followed Hermione in quietly through the double doors. As if sensing their presence, the candles jumped into life.

"Now," said Hermione, leading him over to one of the many empty beds. "You stay here whilst I go and get Madam Pomfrey."

As soon as he was sat down she bustled off towards the other end of the room and out of sight.

Harry sat there, dangling his legs off the edge of the bed and swinging them steadily. He could run; he could just get up and run back to his dormitory and avoid all of this. But no matter what he thought, he couldn't. He was here now and this was what he wanted. He wanted to find out and he knew he couldn't live with not knowing. As soon as Pomfrey told him that no, he wasn't pregnant, then he could go back to his life.

But what if she confirmed his fears? What if he was carrying Snape's baby? He didn't know what he would do! He certainly wouldn't tell anyone that it was Snape's, that was for sure. And there was no way he was going to tell the professor himself – that would just give him more ammunition.

He heard footsteps and looked to see Hermione returning, followed by the school nurse.

"We're sorry to bother you at such a late hour," Hermione was saying as the nurse pulled her dressing gown tight around her.

"Don't worry about it dear," she said, "I'm here to help. Now, what seems to be the trouble?"

"Well…" Hermione trailed off and stopped in front of Harry's bed, looking at him. "It's Harry…we think that, erm, well, that maybe he's, erm…"

"We think I might be pregnant," Harry finished, getting it over and done with. The words seemed to hang ominously in the air as Madam Pomfrey just stared at him.

"Pr…pregnant?"

Harry nodded.

"Well," she said, recovering, "We can soon find out. Lie down for me please, Mr Potter."

Harry lay down on the bed and watched as the witch pulled out her wand. Harry was sure he was dreaming, it all felt so unreal. How had things come to this? If he was pregnant then surely it wasn't going to stay a secret for very long. But that was the least of his worries; he didn't know the first thing about babies. Surely a child brought up by him would be subjected to the lime light just as Harry was. He couldn't let that happen.

"Have you been feeling more tired then you should? Any sickness or reactions to food?"

"We just went through the symptoms before we came here," Hermione explained, as Madam Pomfrey tapped his stomach with her wand. "He had quite a few of them, including exhaustion, morning sickness, and aversions to some foods."

Madam Pomfrey finished doing her examination of him and he sat up, looking at her, waiting for her diagnosis. Her face was giving nothing away and Hermione seemed just as apprehensive as he was himself.

"Well?" he asked, not able to take the silence any longer; even though it had only gone on for a few seconds, it felt like an eternity.

She seemed to study his face for a moment before replying.

"You are indeed pregnant, Mr Potter," she said softly. "A month pregnant."

* * *

"I…I can't be…I can't…I can't deal with a baby, not now, I…are you sure you haven't made a mistake?"

"I'm positive," she said, sitting down on his bed.

"But I can't be…not like this, not with…oh God! What am I going to do? I don't want a baby yet, I'm not ready for a family like this…I can't do this, I honestly can't!"

"I'm sure you'll feel differently in the morning Harry," said Hermione, placing her hand on his. "And don't forget that Ron and I are here for you. The whole Weasley family would be more than willing to help. And you can't forget Sirius and Remus."

Oh God! Sirius! What the hell was he going to think? He'd be so disgusted with Harry! Of all the stupid things to go and do…he just had to sleep with Snape! He _had_ to get pregnant by Snape! Sirius was going to go mad! He was going to kill Snape and then he was going to kill Harry. Oh God, oh God! Why? Why him? Why now? Why any of this?

"Why does all this shit happen to me?" he asked aloud. "Why can't I just have a normal life for once and be left in peace?"

"I know," said Madam Pomfrey sympathetically, "I know. It does seem rather harsh to happen now."

"But I can't have a baby! I didn't even know men could get pregnant until this afternoon! Why didn't anyone tell me before? Why didn't Sn –" But he stopped before he could say anymore, cursing himself.

Snape was a bloody grown man! He was gay! He was a fully qualified wizard! He was a teacher for crying out loud! Surely, _surely,_ he would have known that this could happen! Why the hell hadn't he warned before hand? Why hadn't Snape used protection? This was all Snape's fault! How could he do this to him? How!?

Harry was now trying hard not to cry, but he was shaking uncontrollably.

"We're here for you Harry," said Hermione, hugging him. "We're all here for you. Every step of the way."

"But…how? I was hit with the killing curse! How could the baby have survived that? Surely it would have killed it!"

"You mean you went through that whole battle whilst pregnant?" Madam Pomfrey was shocked but he could hear her disapproving tone.

"Obviously I didn't know I was pregnant," he said.

"But that was a month ago," said Hermione, looking at him. "You're a month pregnant."

"The night before…you know, that night I went missing? It would have been conceived then."

"Let me get this straight," said Pomfrey, straightening up. "You went to battle, were hit with numerous curses, including the killing curse; you used an extraordinarily large amount of power…all whilst you were one day pregnant?"

Harry nodded.

"It's a miracle. It really is a miracle that baby survived. That killing curse should have killed you, yet both you and the baby survived! I've never heard of such a thing!"

"You've been blessed Harry," smiled Hermione. "You've been blessed with this baby."

"Now," said Madam Pomfrey, getting up, "I can refer you to someone at St Mungo's - a mid-wife who will be able to take you through the pregnancy and birth. She will explain everything to you and will be on call for you twenty-four hours of the day so there's no need to worry."

"And I can take you shopping for baby things," said Hermione. "I have lots of baby cousins so I know what you'll be needing."

But Harry was shaking his head. "You needn't bother," he told her, brushing away some tears that had started to fall.

"What do you mean?" asked Madam Pomfrey.

"There's no point in doing all this; I won't be needing anything," he said. "I just need to know how to get an abortion."

"What? Harry, no!" Hermione was looking at him as if she had never met him.

"It's my choice Hermione," he said, getting up and brushing her aside, "I'm the one carrying the baby; I'm the one who has to go through child birth. It's my choice."

"Harry," she said, coming after him, "Harry, that baby has been inside you for a month! You've given life to it! It's been given a second chance! Don't you think it deserves a chance to live that life?"

"Hermione, don't argue with me. I've been through enough as it is! It's my baby, it's my body, and it's my decision, ok?"

"But it's not your life to take! Harry, please, don't do this! You can't kill it!"

"I'm not killing it Hermione. It's not even alive yet! It's just a…a _thing_; something that was the result of a stupid, _stupid_ mistake. This is my choice ok? I'm the one who has to live with it."

"But Harry, it _is_ alive! The moment it was conceived you gave it life! It survived Voldemort! You're meant to have this baby Harry!"

"I thought you didn't believe in fate?"

"You know I don't," she said. "But I can't believe you would ignore what has happened here! The baby didn't die that day Harry! Surely that means something to you?"

"Hermione, stop it, ok? People can't be made to have children. Mistakes happen. I can't bring up this child alone, so I won't bring it up at all."

"But we'll all help you! Molly, Arthur, Ron, Ginny, Sirius, Remus…everyone is here for you!"

"You can't be there every single hour of every single day! You all have your own lives to get on with – jobs to start, families to make…Hermione, I can't rely on other people to do this for me when _I_ myself don't want to be a part of it. I just killed Voldemort; I just got my life back. I can't deal with the responsibility of looking after another, not now; not when I'm finally free."

"What about the other father?" asked Madam Pomfrey, "Shouldn't he get a say in this?"

"He doesn't want me and he certainly won't want this baby."

"How do you know when you haven't even asked him?"

"Because of the way he treats me," Harry told them. "Because of what he said the morning after we'd slept together. This baby isn't supposed to be here – I'm just righting the wrong by getting rid of it."

"No Harry," said Hermione coldly, "No, what you're doing is taking its one chance of life away."

"And what a life it would have had! Do you want to see it grow up in a world where its parents don't even want it?"

"Then give it up for adoption! There are many couples out there who would be more than willing to have a chance to raise a child!"

"No! No, ok? No! This is _my _baby and this is _my _decision! I'm not going to go through nine months of pregnancy to give birth to a baby that I'm not even going to keep!"

He knew he was sounding cold hearted and he truly hated himself for it. But he just couldn't bear the thought of having Snape's baby – it would be a constant reminder of how much the man had hated Harry. He didn't want to give Snape the satisfaction of knowing that he had ruined Harry's life the moment he had gained control of it. And his reason for not giving the baby up for adoption was not a selfish one – the truth was, he knew that if he gave birth to it, if he signed a contract that said he would give up the baby to another couple – the truth was that, if he did all that, he knew that when the time came to hand the baby over, he wouldn't be able to do it; he'd be too attached to it. But keeping it for himself wasn't an option.

"I can't raise this child and I can't bear to give it away," he said, keeping his voice steady. "Having an abortion is the only option. At least then the child won't know that it was unwanted."

"You know," said Hermione, her eyes cold – Harry had never seen her like this. "You know, I never thought you were the type to deny an innocent life a chance to live. I'm honestly disgusted with you Harry. I can't believe what you've just said to me."

And without sparing him a last glance, she turned and left the room.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for all your reviews last chapter. That one actually got more reviews than any other chapter! 


	14. Lost and Found

**Rating:** M

**Warnings:** Slash, Mpreg

**Pairings:** SS/HP

**Genres:** Romance, Angst, Drama, Horror, Thriller

**Summary:** Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love. But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection - can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late?

* * *

**_IMPORTANT - PLEASE READ:_** First of all, thank you all so much for your reviews! I knew when I was writing that last chapter that it would get a _very_ mixed response and it did. But I have to warn you about this one. I've known from the beginning that this was going to happen. After reading all your reviews, I admit I did have second thoughts, but a friend convinced me to stick to my original plan and so I have. Rest assured, this fic _will_ have happy ending and there will be two sequels with hardly _any_ angst in, but right now I have to warn you that this chapter will deal with delicate issues which some people may not like. If that's the case then I really do apologise. Please don't hate me after you've read this chapter – things will get better, I promise.

* * *

Chapter 14: Lost and Found

Harry finished writing his letter to Sirius and signed his name before slipping the parchment into an envelope and sealing it. He'd thought it best to let Sirius know that he was going on holiday during the first few weeks of summer so that his godfather didn't make any plans. He knew Sirius wouldn't be entirely happy with this as he missed his godson terribly when he was at school, but it would only be for a few weeks as he still needed to find a job and buy a house.

He left the letter on his bedside cabinet and got up and walked over to the window. The distant laughter of students reached his ears through the open window and Harry smiled sadly. He wished he could be out there, enjoying the summer sun with the others. But he had told Ron that he had needed to speak to Dumbledore about life after Hogwarts.

Truth was, he'd wanted some time alone. Hermione wasn't talking to him and he doubted whether she ever would again. The news that Harry was going to have an abortion had greatly wounded her. It pained him that his friendship with Hermione was being destroyed over this.

But the fact still remained that he wouldn't be able to cope with a baby; a baby that was fathered by one _Severus Snape_ even. Bringing up a child was such a huge responsibility and Harry wasn't sure if he was ready to take on such a role so soon after he had restored peace in the wizarding world. In the past, his life had been limited, first by the Dursley's, and then by Voldemort. But that was all over now; he had broken free of the boundaries that had held him for so long. Now was the time to start living. Now was the time to do everything he wished he had done already. He had missed out on his childhood and he didn't intend to miss out on his freedom years. He wanted to travel, to explore, to experience different things. He wanted fun; fun without being told that going too far could result in danger for the rest of the world. He was free at last. The last thing he needed now, of all things, was a baby.

_A cute little baby with gorgeous rosy cheeks and big green baby eyes…_

The door to the dormitory opened and he looked up to see Ron walk in and collapse on his bed, exhausted. Harry sat down on the window seat.

"Hermione got you running round?" he asked, looking over at his friend.

"Like you wouldn't believe," he replied, his arm flopped across his face. "Everyone's having a water fight out there and its complete uproar. I needed a break." He paused to take a deep sigh, before sitting up and rolling round to face Harry. "You talked to Dumbledore then, yeah?"

"Huh?"

"You talked to Dumbledore?"

"Oh," he remembered, "Yeah, I did. Everything's fine."

Ron nodded. He looked as though he wanted to say something but perhaps thought better of it. He began picking absently at a loose thread on his pillow. When he finally decided to voice what was on his mind he wasn't looking at Harry.

"You, err…well, Hermione told me about the baby…and stuff."

"Did she now?"

"Come on mate, you can't blame her for telling me," he said, "We're all best friends here aren't we? She's worried about you."

"No she's not, she's mad at me," Harry said.

"She'll cool down eventually," Ron said, although he didn't sound very convinced of this. "She just, I dunno…has trouble understanding your reasons for…you know…getting rid of it."

"Yeah, well, it's really none of her business!"

"Hey, there's no need to snap at me you know."

"Well she's _your_ girlfriend!"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

Harry just sighed and shook his head.

"Look," said Ron, "She did tell me why you wanted to abort it and everything, and I guess I can kind of understand that…you've not exactly had an easy ride have you? I mean, everything always happens to you and I agree that, yeah, it is time you got a break and all…"

"But?"

"Well…it's a baby, you know? I'm not against abortions or anything but…maybe this child being conceived wasn't such a mistake. Maybe it was a blessing."

Harry looked up. "What do you mean?"

"I don't really know," he muttered, looking away, "I'm no good at this kind of stuff, you know I'm not. But what I'm trying to say is, well, maybe the baby's a good thing. It's something good that's come out of all this crap. You've been given a chance to have a family and that's something you've always wanted. I mean, you can give this kid the childhood you never had."

Harry didn't say anything. Ron was right there – he _had_ wanted a family. But when he'd thought about family, he'd always imagined having parents and brothers and sisters…maybe even meeting someone and getting married. A baby had never crossed his mind. Well, maybe once…or twice…

…So ok, yeah, he _had_ thought about babies, but he'd always pictured his perfect little family to be made up of a mother figure to his children, maybe living in a nice, big, cosy cottage somewhere in the country, with a big back garden and a nice little pond where, each Sunday, the family could picnic, throwing bread crumbs to the fish… (That was, of course, after he moved out of his dream penthouse.)

Was he _really_ doing the right thing by getting rid of it? Was having this abortion a selfish thing to do? Should he perhaps keep it? Sure, he'd be a single parent, but it wasn't like he couldn't afford it. He'd be able to give the child a luxurious life – a safe, secure, enjoyable life. After having had such a crap start to life, having this baby would provide him with company and with love. Sure, people would talk, but so what? After this bombshell, he was pretty much passed caring.

There was always adoption. But could he really give his child away? Could he go through nine months of pregnancy, go through the agony of childbirth, look at his baby and just hand it over to strangers? What if they were Death Eaters who'd managed to escape capture? What if they were horrible people? What if they abused the poor thing? Did Harry really want to take that chance?

Maybe Sirius and Remus would take the baby? They'd be great parents and Harry knew they would love a child of their own. But then Harry would have to see his own child being brought up by two other people. Would his child ever know who its real father was? And what if Harry became attached to it and wanted to take it back?

Harry was pregnant. He had a _baby_ inside of him. What if he got rid of it and never had the opportunity to have another one?

"Ron, I was wondering where you had…oh."

Hermione had entered the dormitory.

"I'm just getting a drink of water, I'll be out in a bit," Ron told her. He got up and went over to the bathroom. As soon as the door shut, Harry was left in bitter silence with Hermione.

He must have deeply offended her when he had yelled at her, saying that he wasn't keeping the baby. He had never known her views on abortions but he had thought that, seeing how her best friend was in trouble, she would have been supportive no matter what he decided. But at the end of the day (to use such a cliché) it was his decision – they _were_ talking about his body and his life here after all.

Not able to take anymore of Hermione's stares, he got up.

"Must you glare and sulk at me?"

"Guilty conscience kicking in is it?" she asked, following him in to the common room.

"I really don't have to put up with this," he said with a sigh. He turned to look at her. "Why can't you accept that this is my decision Hermione? Why can't you just let it be?"

"Because, Harry, it's murder," she said. "Do you want to commit murder?"

"I already have," he reminded her. "Big, old, scary looking guy; called himself the Dark Lord, had a nasty temper – ring any bells?"

"I can not believe you are being sarcastic at a time like this," she snapped. "Aren't you taking this seriously?"

"Of course I'm taking it seriously! Who the hell do you think I am? And who the hell do _you_ think you are?!"

"I'm your friend, Harry! I want you to do the right thing. I just can't see why you would want to get rid of it. Harry, it's an innocent life!"

"You just don't understand! You don't understand what its like to be me! You can't possibly understand what I'm going through, so don't you _dare_ preach at me! Until you're in this position, you have _no_ right to say anything to me about this!"

"But Harry – "

Harry cut her off. "Do you have any idea of what I'm going through here?"

Hermione shook her head, biting her lip.

"No," he snapped at her, "So don't you dare stand there and tell me what I can and can not do!"

"Guys, guys, come on, don't fight," came Ron's voice as he caught up with them.

Harry hadn't thought it possible to be this mad at one of his friends, but Hermione was really starting to test his temper. Why couldn't she help him and be with him through this? It wasn't like he could run into the arms of the baby's other father for comfort.

"She started it," Harry muttered angrily.

"We wouldn't be fighting if you would just listen to reason."

"Hermione, come on, just leave him be, ok? It's hard enough for him without you harping on."

"'Harping on'?! Ron, he's – "

"Hermione!"

At Ron's shout, Hermione snapped her mouth shut but she bit on her lip as if trying to stop herself from carrying on.

"Thank you," said Ron. "Now," he said slowly, "I'm going back outside. Are any of you coming with me?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm gonna go down and get something to eat," he said.

"Hermione?"

"I'll come with you. But I'm not playing."

After saying 'bye' to Ron, Harry began to make his slow way down to the kitchens. He was sure Hermione would come round one day – after all, they had been friends for seven years…he couldn't really imagine life without her.

* * *

Severus grumbled to himself as he made his way up to the Headmasters office. Why the old man couldn't get off his lazy arse and come down to Severus' rooms was beyond him. What if he'd been in the middle of making a potion that he couldn't afford to leave? 

The war was over and it was almost the end of the school year – what could the Headmaster possibly want to discuss? If this was another one of his attempts to get Severus to go to that bloody ball on Friday…!

Once he'd reached the office door, he knocked and entered. Dumbledore was sat in his usual place, looking all high and mighty (and slightly ridiculous) in purple and gold robes. He smiled and beckoned Severus to take a seat.

"Good Afternoon Severus. How are you this fine day?"

_Well, I've ruined my only chance of happiness and hurt and insulted the only person who's ever shown any real romantic interest in me and after he graduates I'll probably never see him again and I'll have to live with my guilt and regret for the rest of my life._

"I've been better," he said. "I don't have time for pleasantries Albus. Why did you call me here?"

With a sigh, Dumbledore cut to the chase. "I have something I wish to discuss with you."

He paused as if waiting for Severus to speak. When it became apparent that he wasn't going to get a word out of him however, he continued.

"It's about something you said after the Final Battle."

Again, Severus just sat in silence – he really didn't have time for Dumbledore's drivel.

"When I found you out on the battle field, barely conscious, you said something rather…unusual. When asking whether Harry was alright, you referred to him as 'my Harry'."

_Oh bugger. _

_Play it cool, Severus, just play it cool._

"I'm pretty sure I didn't," he said.

"I'm pretty sure you did. You also said something about how you were mean to him and that you never got a chance to say sorry."

"Really."

"Severus…forgive me for asking, but is there something going on between you and Harry?"

_Not bloody likely, not after the way I treated him._

"With Potter? Are you serious? Albus, he's 17!"

"I am well aware of that. But I can't ignore what you said, even if you were barely conscious. Just what is it that you needed to apologise to him for?"

"Nothing," said Severus, trying to keep his temper in check. "I was completely disorientated when you found me. I was talking nonsense."

"You called him 'my Harry.'"

"Why are you only bringing this up with me now?" Severus asked in an attempt to avoid giving a proper answer. "It's been a month since that day."

"I was rather hoping you would have told me sooner," he admitted. "Severus, if there's something going on between you and Harry…" he broke off and sighed. "He's a _student_ Severus. He's a teenager. I don't want you to get yourself in to trouble."

"Albus, believe me when I say that Harry and I are not in any way involved with each other. Now if that's all, I'll be on my way."

* * *

Harry woke up the next morning to find that the dormitory was empty. Rolling over, he looked at his watch he had placed next to his bed; 1:23 in the afternoon. He supposed it was time to get up. 

He grabbed his clothes from off the floor and padded over to the bathroom. Once in, he locked the door and threw his clothes on the side. After he'd been to the toilet and relieved himself, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. Luckily, he wasn't showing yet. Good. He wanted to make use of the hot weather and get a suntan before going on holiday as he wasn't really planning on going to any beaches just yet. He'd decided he wanted to see cities and countryside's first, before moving on to hotter, more exotic, climes.

Turning away from the mirror, he turned the shower on and got underneath its warm spray. He soaped himself up and washed his hair before rinsing himself down and getting out. Once dry, he slipped his clothes on, not bothering to comb his wet hair. His stomach was starting to grumble with hunger so he quickly brushed his teeth and gathered his pyjama's up. He was just about to re-enter his dormitory however, when he heard raised voices. It sounded like Ron and Hermione.

With his ear pressed to the bathroom door, he listened in.

"I understand that some people want to have abortions," Hermione was saying, "But I just never thought someone I _knew_ would want one."

"Just because he says he wants one now doesn't mean he'll actually go through with it," said Ron.

"I know that. But what if he does? I just don't want him to live with the guilt. I was _trying_ to look out for him."

"By demanding he has a baby?" Ron said, rather loudly. "You can't force him to have a child Hermione!"

"I'm not forcing him to have a child."

"Yes you are!"

"If he didn't want a baby then he should have used contraception."

"He didn't even know men could get pregnant! _I_ didn't even know men could get pregnant and I was brought up in the wizarding world!"

"Well, he should have done some research before he slept with this guy!"

"Oh, research, yeah, that's real romantic."

"Well going by the fact that Harry is no longer with this mystery man, it wasn't real romance anyway."

There was a few moments silence before Ron spoke next.

"I never thought you'd do this to him. Have you seen what all of this has done to him? We're his best friends Hermione. He needs us. Why do you have to be like this?"

"You know how I am Ron," said Hermione, but this time her voice was much more subdued and slightly apologetic. "I want to do good - give house-elves a better life, give werewolves human rights…give unborn babies a chance to live. It's just who I am. I can't help myself. He just…well, he just sounded so serious when he said it…I didn't think."

"That much is obvious," said Ron. "I know you like to help and try and do the right thing, but with this…it's his choice Hermione." There was another silence before Ron continued. "Have you even considered how this is affecting Harry? He's scared. He panicked when he heard he was pregnant."

"I know," Hermione said quietly.

"If he wants to get an abortion we should just let him…I know that's not what you want to hear but Hermione, he's in a right state."

"Do you think he will?"

"I have no idea. Maybe once the shock's worn off and he's had time to think...but you can't yell at him anymore, ok?"

"Alright," she said quietly. "I won't mention it to him again."

"And you'll apologise?"

"Yes. I promise."

Harry then heard the door on the other side open and the conversation ended.

Harry turned around and lay his back flat against the wall. He wasn't sure what to make of what he'd just heard. It sounded as though Hermione was going to be his friend again, but only because Ron had made her. Or did she actually want to help Harry through this? Either way, he still had a huge decision to make, with or without her.

* * *

Harry spent most of the afternoon with Madam Pomfrey, discussing what having an abortion would mean for him. She'd given him a few leaflets to read which gave information and contact details for the medi-witches and wizards who dealt with the abortion process. They'd also talked about Harry keeping the baby and raising it himself, as well adoption. She was very understanding and didn't judge him in what he said, although she did hint a few times that the other father should have a say in all of this. 

At the end of their session together, Harry had asked her opinion on whether she thought he should have an abortion or not.

"What I think is not important here Harry," she had said kindly. "This decision is yours to make."

He spent the rest of the afternoon lying in bed. He'd panicked when he'd found out he was pregnant. He'd spoken before actually thinking about what he was saying. At that moment he _had_ wanted an abortion but only because he'd been terrified. Now though, his thoughts were coming together. Did he really, truly want an abortion? Could he get rid of his own baby, his own flesh and blood? What if he got rid of it and never got pregnant again?

But could he cope with a baby? He hadn't a clue what to do with one; but then again, what first-time parent does? Would he be able to take proper care of it? Would he be willing to put his life on hold once more? Having a baby was such a huge step. He'd hardly have anytime to have a proper job, a proper relationship…someone would be relaying on him for years to come and he needed to be there.

If he kept it, he'd have to tell Severus. Would he want to help out? Would he demand visitation rights? Would Harry be comfortable with having him around? Or would the man urge Harry to have an abortion?

Harry sat in bed for hours, going over every possible option in his head and the consequences they would each have on his future and the people affected by his decision. It was late at night when Harry finally made his mind up.

* * *

It was in the very early hours of Thursday morning that Harry sat alone in the common room. He couldn't sleep. His mind wouldn't stop racing. All he could think about was what his future would hold. 

He still wasn't sure if he should mention anything to Severus. Madam Pomfrey was right…he _did_ have a right to know. But even if Harry told him, he wasn't about to change his decision to suit him. He'd been through hell with this.

The ball was taking place tomorrow night. Maybe he would tell him then. Maybe he wouldn't.

He heard soft footsteps behind him and he looked up in time to see Hermione appear around the corner. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs when she noticed Harry before averting her eyes.

"What are you doing down here at this time?" she asked.

"Couldn't sleep," he answered her. "You?"

"Same," she said, still standing there.

Harry watched her sadly, hoping she would say something more. He hated this silence between them; they'd been friends for seven years and it would be a shame for them to break apart now, so near to the end of school. Plus, she had promised Ron that she would apologise.

Eventually, Hermione looked up at him and took a few steps forwards.

"I shouldn't have shouted at you," she said. "You were scared. I would have been had that been me. I mean, having a baby is such a huge thing – it can affect everything and everyone around you. I know now that you needed time. I guess what I'm trying to say is…I'm sorry."

"It's ok," he told her. "I know I was a bit rash and I understand why you were so against me getting rid of it. But you have to understand the position I'm in here. You have to accept that this is my decision."

"I do Harry," she said, coming over to him now. "We're still friends aren't we?"

"Of course we are," he said with a smile – it was great to talk to her amicably again, "I couldn't survive without you and Ron." And he knelt up on the sofa and turned around to give her a hug. It felt good to hold someone for a moment.

When they finally broke apart, Hermione was on the verge of tears. She sniffed and turned away.

"I'm going to try and get some sleep," she said, snivelling. "Good night Harry."

"Hermione," he said, looking after her. "I'm keeping it. I'm having a baby."

* * *

Harry and Ron spent most of Thursday helping Hermione and Ginny decide on what to wear to the ball the next day. Harry was just planning on wearing his dress robes (and Fred and George had gotten Ron a new, more modern outfit since their last ball) but for the girls it was an entirely different matter. Out came all the fancy dresses and shoes, as well as dress robes and accessories. What colours should they wear? How should they do their hair? Which perfume smelt right for the occasion? 

Harry would have rolled his eyes at them and told them they were making far too big a fuss, but he knew it would be dangerous to do so. Photographers were coming after all and, being close friends with Harry Potter, it was more than likely that they would end up in the papers and in doing so they would want to look their best. Never deny a girl her beauty products.

Once that was out of the way however, the trio spent the rest of the day discussing Harry and his baby. 'Aunt' Hermione was really excited that she was going to get to dote on the little baby and Harry had to admit that he too was really coming around to the idea of bringing up a child; even Ron telling him how it was going to do nothing but eat, sleep, cry, and poop all day long didn't put him off and make him want to change his mind. All Harry could think about was what it would be like to hold his baby in his arms, to rock it gently to sleep when it was crying. If he hadn't have been pregnant already, he would definitely have said he was broody.

Ron had asked him if he was planning on staying at Grimmauld Place with Sirius and Remus once he'd had the baby – it seemed the smartest thing to do really. But Harry was dead set on having his own place to bring up his child. Of course, having a baby around meant that Harry could no longer have his dream penthouse, but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make. What he was going to do was find a nice, comfortably-sized house, somewhere practical, and provide everything his child could ever need. So what if he didn't work? And so what if he had no social life? He'd have a _baby_.

Ron had suggested getting a part-time nanny so that Harry could salvage some normality out of life, but there was no way Harry was going to put his child in the arms of some stranger.

They had both asked him who the father was but when Harry had refused to talk about it, they had dropped the matter fairly quickly. Deep down, Harry knew he should tell Severus that he was going to be having their baby, but he just couldn't face the rejection again. He'd get round to it one day, he was sure of it, but the more he thought about it, the more the idea terrified him, so in the end he pushed it to the back of his mind.

"It's going to be so great!" Hermione smiled, hugging Harry. "A little baby Potter! Promise you'll let us baby-sit every now and then?"

"I promise," he said, laughing at her enthusiasm. "I know I was against the idea of keeping this baby before, but now all I can seem to think about is watching my baby take its first steps and say its first words. I've never been around a baby before – are they really that much hard work as everybody says they are?"

"I'm sure every parent goes for a period where they're learning the ropes," said Hermione. "You'll be fine. Trust me."

"I still can't believe it," said Ron, "You're having a baby. In eight months you'll have a son or a daughter. How bizarre is that?"

"I know," smiled Harry. "I can't believe it myself. I mean, I'm actually going through with this. I'm keeping it. I'm going to be a father. Me!"

Finally, after much chit-chat, it was time to start getting dressed for the ball. As the girls all scurried back to their rooms, the lads made their way to their dormitories and to the showers.

Harry took a little longer than the others, being a bit more conscious of his body. He knew he wasn't showing but he still felt a bit awkward. He stayed in his shower cubicle a while longer, making a point of washing his hair thoroughly. Just imagine…in a few months time, Harry would have quite a noticeable baby bump; as strange as it was, he was actually sort of looking forward to this whole pregnancy thing – it was an experience, that was for sure!

As soon as he was the only one left in the bathroom, he towelled himself dry, threw on his clothes and was just heading to the dormitory to collect his dress robes, when a sharp cramp shot through his stomach.

His hand flew to his belly as he gritted his teeth, breathing heavily and doubling over with the pain. _Must be something to do with pregnancy_, he thought. Maybe if he just sat down for a minute it would stop.

Leaning against the bathroom wall, he slid down to the floor and tucked his knees against his chest. He couldn't understand where the sudden pain had come from – he'd been perfectly fine a moment ago! He took some deep breaths to try and lessen the pain but the cramp in his stomach was getting worst. Maybe if he went to the toilet?

Starting to shake with nerves, he crawled across the bathroom floor to the nearest toilet cubicle. He pressed a hand against the wall and slowly, carefully, pulled himself up, loosening his belt with his other hand. The pain seemed to ever so slightly lessen the more he concentrated on his deep breathing, but only slightly. It was probably trapped wind or a pulled muscle. Or maybe his little baby was moving around (was that even possible at only one month gone?) Still doubled over, he dropped onto the toilet seat.

Blood. There was blood in his boxer shorts. With a choked cry, he hastily stood up and fixed his clothes before another sharp cramp took control. He kneeled down on the floor and curled up in a tight ball, shaking and crying.

* * *

Most of the students were now in their dormitories, getting ready for the dance later on that night. It was being held in celebration of the Dark Lords downfall and many members of the Ministry were attending, as well as the press and a large number of local residents and family members of students. It was to be the event of the year and Harry Potter was the guest of honour. 

Yet Potter had been somewhat distant to his friends lately, especially with Granger. From a distance it was hard to tell, but Severus had been watching the three of them whenever he was able to. Mostly this was just at meal times and from what he'd managed to see Harry and that damn Granger had fallen out. He wondered whether Harry had told his friends about them.

Even some of the teachers had noticed the change in Harry. Ever since the end of the war he'd been withdrawn, but these last days had been the worst. The staff had all been chatting to each other about it and saying that they must try to do something to help the poor boy cheer up. Every time they mentioned it, Severus shrank inside.

He sighed heavily and let himself fall into the soft sheets that covered his bed, except that they weren't comforting anymore. They hadn't been since Harry had slept in them. All they were now was a painful reminder of how he had shattered Harry's heart.

But when he came to think about it, did he _really_ love Harry Potter? It was impossible wasn't it? He was only feeling this way because he felt guilty for hurting Harry. He wanted to see Harry happy because he deserved that happiness more than anyone, but he, Severus Snape, was not the one to bring Harry that joy. Sure, he was friendly with the boy (or had been until he had ruined it all by sleeping with him!), but he didn't _love_ him. He just felt guilty, and the guilt was making him feel as though he _should_ be in love with him. That was, after all, what Harry wanted, and he wanted Harry to have what he wanted – if that made sense at all.

Nope. All in all, he just regretted sleeping with him. It had been one of those moments where the only thing to do was to, well, _go with the moment_. Live for the moment.

He pushed himself up off his bed and opened his wardrobe. He really didn't want to go to this party thing, but he had no choice. Albus, as usual, was adamant he attend. Severus had, after all, been a huge help in the war and the Ministry was here to congratulate them all.

He picked out his best black robes, the ones that shimmered silver in the light, before pulling out some trousers and pulling them on. He put on his green silk shirt and black tie and spelled his hair dry before pulling his dress robes on.

He looked at himself in the full-length mirror. He had the horrible feeling that it was going to be a _long_ night.

He smiled wearily at his reflection, aware that the smile didn't reach his dark eyes.

It wasn't that he wanted the other teachers to be fussing over him like they did with Harry; it was just that he felt somewhat annoyed that they hadn't noticed that _he _himself was being eaten up inside as well; that _he_ needed to talk about things (not that he would if ever given the chance, but that wasn't the point.) He wanted someone to acknowledge the pain he was going through. He hated Harry for making him feel this guilt and this jealously.

"Damn that boy," he muttered to himself, arranging his dress robes. It wasn't _his_ fault that the boy was so infatuated with him! It wasn't _his_ fault that he didn't return Harry's love! Damn it, Severus was a human being too and he should _not _be made to feel like this!

He didn't need Harry. He didn't even want him. What he wanted was to be left in peace! He really couldn't care less if he never saw that sweet, young, innocent face ever again! He didn't want to see those startlingly bright emerald eyes looking at him; he didn't want to hear pained words coming from that little mouth. He didn't need to feel that soft skin beneath his fingers, he didn't need to run his hands through that garden of raven black hair, or hear those yielding moans of pleasure, or cover that lithe little body with delicate kisses… What was it to him if Harry Potter was never happy again? For years the boy had made his life more of a hell than it had been before and, _Merlin damn it_, he would not let him carry on doing so! Severus Snape did not _need_ Harry Potter!

The clock chimed 6:45.

He looked again at the stubborn man in the mirror, the man whose eyes seemed lost and unfocused. _They always did say that the eyes were the windows to the soul_, he thought darkly.

He turned away and looked around the large empty room.

Who was he kidding? He needed Harry more than anything! That one night had meant more to him than any other relationship ever had. But he was just so afraid; afraid of spilling his heart and soul to Harry and having it thrown back in his face.

It wasn't that he was afraid of rejection; he'd experienced that in many different ways over the years. No, what he was frightened of was being turned down by _Harry_. He didn't want to confess his true feelings – his real true, honest-to-God, from-the heart feelings – to the boy because he didn't want them scorned at.

His heart ached when he thought about the whole thing; that night of immense passion they had shared would be forever etched in his mind. And so would the way he had reacted the next day. The way he had lied to Harry, had said that it had all been some huge mistake; that he had just been caught up in the moment. And he would never forget the emotions that had been coursing through his body as he had stood and watched Harry walking to battle, to the final battle, to face the Dark Lord. Harry had been an emotional wreck (no thanks to Severus), but he had held his head high and had stood strong, giving those around him courage when he himself had lost all.

What had Severus been thinking? Telling him he didn't love him on the _very_ morning when Harry could well have walked to his death!? He had been so worried about protecting himself from getting hurt that he had wounded Harry just as he was about to throw himself into the battle that would determine the fate of the future! It didn't matter that Harry had won; the fact still remained that Severus had deeply hurt him for no reason at all other than his own paranoia.

The truth was, Severus was madly in love with Harry. He knew he'd made a mistake in saying those harsh words to him the moment they'd left his lips. But he hadn't been able to stop himself. It was a reflex; he'd found himself in a difficult situation and he'd messed up by not confessing his love; _"I was caught up in the moment,"_ he'd said. _"You really thought I wanted you?"_ He'd told such a horrid lie to him. _"I certainly don't want you in my life." _And way to go and shatter his confidence Snape!_ "I've had better – much better." _It had been Harry's first time and he'd come out with that!?

There was only one way to set things right.

Severus stood up and marched over to his door and set off straight for Harry's dormitory. He swept down the dimly lit corridors, and up the many staircases, his shadow flickering on the walls from the candles. Taking shortcuts here and there, he quickened his pace. His cloak whipped out behind him as he rounded corners and, muttering the password to the Fat Lady, he climbed into the Gryffindor common room.

All the teachers had the passwords for the common rooms, even the heads of other houses, but they barely used them. Severus himself had only been in here at one other point in his life and that had been because a student had had a nasty accident and he was the first teacher the students could find. But that had been many years ago and the common room had changed since then. More portraits were scattered on the walls and the old fashioned furniture looked different.

After quickly taking in his surroundings he noticed that a vast number of students were gathered in the room. They were all talking excitedly to one another, sitting around in their fancy dress robes, awaiting the clock to strike 7 so they could go off to the summer dance. As more of them noticed his presence, however, the room gradually grew quiet.

"Have any of you seen Harry Potter?" he asked them, aware of the stares he was receiving but doing his best to ignore them.

"Yeah," said Weasley, confused, "He's in the dormitory getting ready."

Without stopping to thank him, he weaved his way in between the furniture and over to the staircase that he assumed led to the bed chambers. He climbed the stone stairs, keeping his mind focused on what he was going to do; after all, after everything Harry had been through, physically, mentally, and emotionally, he deserved to know the truth – even if it did mean Severus getting turned down. He didn't care; all that mattered was that Harry should know how he felt about him.

He reached the seventh year's dormitory and listened for a moment before pushing open the door. He stepped inside the circular room and found that it was empty. The bright dying sun was visible through one of the windows opposite and clothes were strewn about the place. He saw what he knew to be Harry's dress robes lying on a bed, but there was no sign of Harry himself. He closed the door behind him and moved further into the room, shutting out the noise from the common room. A light was on in what had to be the bathroom and he moved over to it, trying to peer through the gap. He heard a soft cry and his heart stopped. He hated seeing Harry cry; it broke his heart.

He pushed the door open and what he saw momentarily paralyzed him with fear.

Harry lay on the floor next to the toilet, sobbing his eyes out, one hand pressed to his mouth in an attempt to stifle the cries, the other clutched at his stomach. He was shaking violently.

Severus just stood there, feeling his heart breaking at such a sight. He found himself actually forcing back tears that were trying to well in his eyes as he looked at Harry. _What the hell had happened?_

Willing himself to move, he went over to Harry and kneeled down beside him, automatically reaching out and wrapping his arms around the boy. Harry, despite the horrible atmosphere that had existed between the two of them recently, pressed himself against Severus, his head buried in the mans neck.

"Harry," said Severus, his voice trembling, "What's wrong? What's happened?"

He felt Harry shake his head, giving no answer. He continued to cry into his shoulder, his body trembling with the heavy tears flowing down his cheeks.

"Are you hurt? Do you need medical attention? Harry, tell me."

Again, he got no answer. His heart was pounding painfully hard now, his mind jumping to conclusions; _it was the remaining Death Eaters; it has something to do with the Dark Lord; it was a student; someone's played a nasty joke on him; he's had a fall; he's tried to kill himself_ – oh dear God!

"Harry," he stammered, "Are you hurt? I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong."

This only made Harry shake worse. His crying built up to the point where he could no longer stifle it and he let it all come tumbling out, crying all over Severus, gasping for breath.

Severus' heart couldn't take it. He was trembling too, clutching on to Harry. He began to rock back and forth with Harry in his arms, kissing the boy on his head and whispering words of comfort he knew would do nothing to sooth the pain either of them felt.

"Please Harry," he sobbed, "Please. Tell me what's wrong. I can't bear it. I can't bear seeing you like this."

He felt Harry lift his head slightly and then retreat altogether. Harry wiped his eyes and nose but it did nothing to rid him of the tears as they continued to tumble down his distressed face.

"Why do you care?" he threw at Severus. "You hate me. Aren't you glad to see me like this?"

"Harry, it breaks my heart," he confessed. "I don't hate you, I lo…love…" He hated that he couldn't say it. "Harry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for all those things I said. I was scared you'd regret it and it made me say some awful things. I'm so sorry Harry."

He watched Harry's face contort with pain, whether physically or emotionally he couldn't tell. He watched him wipe at the many tears again.

"But…but you said it didn't mean anything. You said you didn't want me. You told me it was a mistake!"

"I know," Severus said, "I know. And I'm truly sorry. I'm so very sorry Harry. It was stupid of me, it was selfish. But I was afraid; I panicked. I want you Harry, I need you with me."

"But you threw me out!"

"I thought you'd only slept with me for a joke. I thought you were going to laugh about it and humiliate me. I was stupid Harry, I'm so sorry. You mean so much to me."

"You honestly thought I would do that? Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you! I just panicked…it's who I am. Forgive me Harry, please. I'll do anything. I lo…I love you."

"Then why have you left it so long to tell me this? It's been a month!"

"I know," he cried again. "I should have said something sooner, but I was scared you wouldn't want me. I didn't want to be turned away by the person I most wanted to be with."

Harry stared at him for a few seconds, his body still trembling with the tears.

"You love me then? You really love me? You're not just saying that because you've found me like this and feel sorry for me? Feel guilty?"

"Of course not Harry," he said desperately, "I truly want to be with you. But Harry," he said, pulling back, "What's wrong with you? Why are you here?"

For a split second he thought Harry was going to scream at him, but he broke down into hysterical tears again and fell back into the comfort of Severus' arms. He sobs shook his body so much it was almost unbearable to hold him, to witness.

"Harry, please," he said, still keeping back the tears as much as he could, "Tell me."

Harry lifted his head a little and turned to look up at Severus. Pain shone in his green eyes as if it were etched into his very soul.

"I had a miscarriage," he whispered softly, as if speaking the words out loud would bring more evil. He buried his head back into Severus' chest.

Severus was left staring blankly at the wall, not understanding what he had just heard uttered from Harry's mouth. He'd had _a miscarriage?_ How was that possible?

"But Harry," he said, "You'd need to be pregnant for that to happen."

Harry's cries rose in the air. "I was," he stammered. "I found out four days ago. But now it's gone, it's all gone. My baby, _our_ baby…it's just gone in a puddle of blood!"

Severus would not allow the pain to take over. He wouldn't _let_ himself think about it. He needed to get Harry to the hospital wing – that was the main priority. _How long had Harry been sitting here like this?_

He looked at his watch. The students would be down in the Great Hall now, enjoying themselves at the dance. Harry was the guest of honour and there was no doubt they were wondering where he was. Severus was painfully aware that members of the press would be attending and if Harry was late, or, in this case, didn't show up at all, then they would have a field day. _Harry Potter, hero of the Wizarding World, couldn't be bothered to greet the public._

Well, Severus didn't give a shit about what they would all think. His only concern was getting Harry some medical help – he didn't know much about miscarriages and he wasn't going to take any risks. This was his Harry they were talking about here!

He stood up, bringing a crying Harry with him, and scooped him up into his arms before heading back out of the door and into the common room, which was, thankfully, empty. He climbed out of the portrait hole, ignoring the gasp the Fat Lady gave when she saw Harry, and hurried down the many staircases.

As he carried Harry along the corridors, the music from the Great Hall reached his ears. They were all down there having fun, celebrating Harry's triumph, whilst Harry himself lay sobbing in Severus' arms. He continued down the corridor.

He came to the hospital wing and pushed the door open with his back. The room was completely silent and empty. Madam Pomfrey was, of course, at the dance with everyone else. She wasn't needed here as there was no one who needed seeing to and all the students were in the Great Hall with her so she'd know if anything happened to them.

He lay Harry down on one of the beds and kissed him on the forehead. Harry had now taken to muttering 'our baby' again and again under his breath. Severus guessed he was in shock and he didn't blame him one bit. He'd be doing that if he wasn't trying so hard to not think about it…he'd deal with it in his own time, not now, not whilst Harry needed him.

"You stay here," he whispered, "I'm going to go and fetch Madam Pomfrey."

"No," he said, holding tight to Severus' robe, "Don't leave me, you can't leave me."

"I'll be back very shortly," he promised. And without further ado he ran back out into the corridor and towards the party.

The band the school had hired was playing some hit song and everyone was singing and dancing along. The place was absolutely crowded and it took him a while to find the teachers, who seemed to be congregated over by the tables and were greeting the members of the public and Ministry. Dumbledore was there shaking hands with the Minister and as soon as he saw Severus he beckoned him over.

"I was wondering when you were going to show up," he smiled. "I'm so glad you decided to come."

"You didn't happen to bring young Harry with you, did you?" asked the Minister. "He's the man of the moment - the man of the century actually - and no one can find him. Some of the Gryffindor's said you were the last person to see him."

"I need to speak to Albus alone," he said, his eyes scanning the crowd for the school nurse, "It's urgent."

"What's happened?" asked the Minister, "Surely not the Death Eaters?"

"No, everything's fine," said Severus, a little impatiently, "It's something personal. Albus, please?"

"Certainly, my boy, certainly," he said, a smile on his face but his eyes serious. He followed Severus over to a corner. "What has happened?" he asked, full of concern.

"It's Harry," he said, feeling himself starting to tremble again, "He needs help. Where's Poppy?"

"Somewhere in the crowd," he said, looking over at the partying people with a worried look. "What's happened to him?"

"I found him in the bathroom," he said, shaking. "He's had a pregnancy miscarriage." He felt the tears welling in his eyes again as he said the words. He knew it wasn't his place to say, but the shock was starting to settle over him again; the panic was beginning to build in his chest. It had been _his_ baby. He hadn't even known Harry was pregnant. He'd almost been a father but the poor thing had been lost.

"Pregnancy…dear Merlin," he heard Dumbledore breathe. "Right, you get yourself back to Harry and I'll go and find Poppy."

Severus turned to go but he was held in place by a hand on his shoulder. He turned back round and saw Dumbledore looking at him.

"Severus, are you OK?" he asked.

Severus studied the old man before him and shook his head, biting his lip. "No," he sobbed, "I'm not. I'm not."

* * *

**A/N:** Right. Now I am going to go and hide under my bed whilst you all yell at me. I know what you're thinking – I'd be mad too if I read that! But whatever you want to say, I'm ready for it (but please don't be too harsh though – I have feelings). The next chapter is the last chapter and it will cheer up, I promise. 


	15. New Beginnings

**Rating:** M

**Warnings:** Slash, Mpreg

**Pairings:** SS/HP

**Genres:** Romance, Angst, Drama, Horror, Thriller

**Summary:** Severus Snape walks in on a certain boy wizard in the bathroom and realises just how much he wants to be with him. He sets out to prove his feelings wrong, but ends up falling deeper in love. But Severus is a cold man, terrified of rejection - can he learn to trust the love of his life before it's too late.

* * *

**Chapter 15: New Beginnings**

There was nothing Severus could do but stand back and watch as Madam Pomfrey worried over Harry. It seemed that the painful cramps in his stomach had now stopped but this did nothing to help sooth Harry's emotional state. Eventually his tears had started to dry up but as soon as he'd turned his head to look at Severus, they'd all come flooding back. In the end, Poppy had had to give him a sedative to calm him down and stop him from exhausting himself with anguish.

The Hospital wing doors had had to be locked due to the large number of journalists and Ministry members trying to find out what was going on; it hadn't taken them long to figure out that Harry's absence and Severus' urgency had meant that something had happened to the boy wizard. Newspapers were going to be buzzing about this tomorrow, there was no doubt about it.

Severus' jaw tightened as he looked at the sleeping figure in the bed. If one thing about this was leaked and Harry's private life was splashed across the papers for all to see, then Severus was going to make sure that whoever was responsible paid with their lives.

He sighed and put his face in his hands, before running his long fingers through his dark hair. How had things gotten this bad? The evening wasn't supposed to end like this. Harry wasn't supposed to lying in a hospital bed.

Once Harry had fallen into a peaceful sleep, his mind and body having a well-deserved rest from the evening's trauma, Albus had insisted that Poppy go back to the party and at least try to enjoy herself. He told her that, physically, Harry would be alright; anyway, he was sleeping and would be out for some time. And besides, if anything happened, he and Severus would be here. She had been about to refuse and insist that she stay when she had stopped, looked over at Severus, sighed, and nodded. It was obvious to her that Albus wanted to talk with the Potions teacher.

When the hospital doors had shut, Albus turned to Severus.

Severus ignored the older man's gaze and kept his dark eyes fixed on Harry's face. He desperately wanted to run his hand through Harry's hair, just to be close to him, but he knew he couldn't with Albus in the room. But then, he already had a sinking feeling that the Headmaster knew something about the student-teacher relationship that had been going on.

"Can't it wait?" Severus asked quietly, keeping his back to the Headmaster.

"Can't what wait?" Albus asked politely.

Severus gritted his teeth. "Whatever it is you have to say to me."

They were both silent again, watching over Harry. A ruffle of clothes let Severus know that Albus had now seated himself on the bed next to Harry's, behind Severus. Severus inhaled deeply, silently. Why couldn't the old man just leave him in peace?

"So this is why Harry has been so distant recently," Dumbledore said quietly; "The pregnancy. You."

Severus tore his eyes away from Harry and looked at the Headmaster. "What do I have to do with any of this?" he snapped.

"You know very well Severus," he said. "Poppy said that Harry had been one month pregnant."

"I am aware of that."

"It was a month ago that you and he stopped talking to each other," said Albus patiently.

"It was also a month ago that the war ended," said Severus – he really wished he would just leave him alone; he wanted to grieve, not be questioned about his relationship with Harry – a relationship that Harry might not want others to know about. "Had it occurred to you that the reason we stopped talking was the battle?"

"But why would you do that?" he asked calmly.

"Because," said Snape, "My task was to help him. He didn't need my help after the war had finished."

"But you two grew so close to each other," he said, "You had a friendship."

Severus didn't say anything. He turned away. He felt his eyes prickle.

"Severus, you wouldn't be sat here now if you didn't feel anything for Harry."

Still, Severus didn't answer. As he was staring as Harry, it was becoming more and more clear in his head of just how dire the consequences of his actions had been. Not only had his actions hurt Harry, they had cost him the life of a baby, _his_ baby. His insecurities had had such a massive effect on both of their lives…things would never be the same again.

After a few more minutes sat in silence, Albus sighed heavily and got to his feet. He rested a hand briefly on Severus' shoulder before moving across the room towards the doors and out into the corridor.

Now alone, Severus wept.

* * *

Even though Harry insisted he was fine, Madam Pomfrey made him stay in the hospital wing all day Saturday. This annoyed him greatly as he had packing to do; school was now officially over and they would be journeying back to London on Monday morning. He needed to make sure he had everything packed – after all, he wouldn't be coming back, not as a student anyway. 

He had visits from Ron and Hermione, as well as the Headmaster, Sirius, and Remus. Hermione was a tower of strength for him, as were Ron and Remus. Sirius seemed to be holding back on what he wanted to ask (and Harry had no doubt what _that_ was) and the Headmaster just kept looking at him as if studying him, but he spoke politely and didn't ask any personal questions and for that Harry was grateful; he didn't want to tell anyone who the father was as he knew they would both be in big trouble.

During Saturday afternoon, Madam Pomfrey had delivered to him some news. She'd said that the miscarriage had been a delayed reaction to the killing curse that had hit him. It had taken the baby's life instead of his, but because his magic had been protecting the baby at the time it had taken a while to have an effect. Harry didn't really know what to make of this. Did that mean that Voldemort had murdered his unborn baby? For some reason, Harry felt she was just making excuses. It was Harry's fault and she knew it. This wouldn't have happened if he had not considered abortion. This was Mother Nature getting her own back.

He felt he should be crying and grieving over his loss, but after all the tears he had shed the night before, he didn't really have any tears left to cry. Instead he'd settled for sitting in bed all day, not really listening to the others chattering away, but thinking about Severus. Was that a terrible thing? He'd just lost his child but all he wanted to think about was Severus.

Severus had obviously been on his way to see Harry last night, perhaps to make it up to him and apologise. Why else would Severus Snape risk entering the dreaded Gryffindor common room? And if Harry's memory served him correctly, Severus had said 'I love you'. But that didn't sound like something he would do…

So Severus had been scared. He had thought that Harry was sleeping with him for a joke. What else had been said last night? Had they made up? Were they together?

Why hadn't Severus been to see him? Surely if they were together then he would have come to visit? Maybe he was having second thoughts because of all the complications that came with a relationship with Harry? But he'd seemed so upset last night, so sorry for what he'd done…

There was only one was this was going to be cleared up. They needed to talk.

* * *

Harry snuck out of the Hospital Wing late on Saturday night and padded down to the cold dungeons. His heart was beating a mile an hour and he was as nervous as hell. But despite everything that had happened, despite what Severus had said and done, despite what it had resulted in, Harry wanted to be with him. Was that wrong? Whatever the case, he needed a few things answered before he made his mind up. 

Shivering in the cold, he reached out and knocked on the door. He waited a few moments before knocking again. Finally, on the third knock, the door was opened.

Harry had promised himself that he would be calm and rational when speaking to his one-time lover; he'd told himself that the best thing to do would be to sit down and talk things through like mature, responsible adults. But when that door had opened and he'd seen Severus Snape standing there, his promises had flown out of the window.

"You bastard!" he shouted, pushing Severus into the room and slamming the door behind him, "How could you do that to me!?"

"Wha – "

"Throw me out like I meant nothing to you! How could you just use me like that?"

Harry had now backed Severus into his desk. "I told you, I panicked."

"So you said!" Harry shouted. "You thought I slept with you for a joke? For some sick revenge? To humiliate you? Why would you think that?"

"As you so kindly pointed out a few months ago, I have trust issues! I can't help but jump to conclusions!"

"You're a spy! Spies don't jump to stupid conclusions!"

"Being a spy has nothing to do with the way I act in my own personal life!" he said hotly; but then he seemed confused. "Harry…I've apologised; I thought you understood."

Harry glared angrily at Severus before storming away across the room.

"How could I ever understand something like this?" he shouted. "Last night you said you loved me; I'm just trying to figure out why you would hurt someone you love! You said some horrible things Snape."

"I know. I know, and I'm terribly sorry. I just…I have trouble understanding why you want to be with me. The only logical explanation I could think of was that you were just out to get even."

Harry whirled round. "So instead of talking to me, you decide its best if you just insult me and tell me to get out?"

"What the hell else was I supposed to do?" he snapped, "I thought you were using me; I wasn't just going to sit back and allow myself to become the laughing stock of the school!"

"You should have trusted me!" Harry yelled.

"I do trust you!" he shouted back, "I do, I really do. But that doesn't change the fact that I still had doubts!"

"What, and you didn't think I had my own insecurities?" Harry shot at him. "Just knowing that you've had past relationships and have had sex with God knows how many people makes me realise how inexperienced I am! But I ignored it. I ignored it because I like you and I wanted to be with you! When you said to me that the sex hadn't been that good…I just wanted to die."

Harry stood in the middle of the room now, looking sorrowfully at Severus. He remembered how it had felt to hear those words; he'd been made to feel so young, so stupid…he'd known he wouldn't be the best at sex – who is when it's their first time? But he had hoped that his passion and enthusiasm would have made up for what he lacked in experience. When Severus had said those words, had shot him down like that…it was almost as bad as being thrown out.

"Harry." Severus was biting his lip and shaking his head in regret. He pushed himself away from the desk and came towards Harry. "Harry, I never meant that. I was just trying to hurt you." He stopped in front of Harry and took his hands into his; Harry's stomach fluttered at the contact. "That night was amazing. It was the best sex I've ever had," he smiled. "Harry Potter, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Harry smiled a somewhat teary smile and looked at their clasped hands. "You still don't fully trust me though." He looked up into Severus' face. "I can tell."

"It'll take sometime for me to be…completely comfortable. I'm not used to being so closed to someone. A small, paranoid part of may have thought that you were doing this for a joke, but can you blame me? I simply can't understand why you like me. I mean, look at me…I'm a 39 year old former Death Eater with a horrible history…and I'm not exactly the most attractive man in the World."

"You're beautiful," Harry whispered, and he reached out a hand and caressed Severus' cheek, "You'll always be beautiful."

Severus pressed a kiss to Harry's lips but pulled away to look at him. "I don't deserve you."

"I know," Harry smiled. "But you're stuck with me."

"Then I am a very, very lucky man." But just as Severus was drawing Harry to him, fully intent on kissing him senseless, Harry pulled away.

"I'm sorry to ruin the moment," he said, looking apologetic, "But I have to ask you something else."

"What?"

"If you knew that men in the wizarding world could get pregnant then why didn't you use a condom or something?"

Harry felt himself blush when he said the word 'condom' and immediately felt like a foolish teenager. Luckily, Severus didn't notice.

"I just assumed that you knew about male pregnancies and had taken a contraceptive potion," he shrugged.

"But it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. Even if I'd known about male pregnancies, I still couldn't have been prepared."

Severus sighed and turned away from Harry.

"I know. I just wasn't thinking. It crossed my mind for a fleeting instant and then I just forgot about it." He turned back to look at Harry and he looked really sorry. "Forgive me. I never meant for all this to happen. This whole thing has just spiralled out of control. I never meant for you to be put through all of this."

Realising that the moment was well and truly gone and knowing that he needed to talk about this, Harry sank onto the sofa.

"It's my fault the baby is gone," he said quietly.

"What do you mean?" Severus asked, coming to seat himself next to the younger man.

"On Monday night when I found out I was pregnant…I wanted to get rid of it. I couldn't stand knowing that I was going to be having your baby. I wasn't exactly ready for one and it really wasn't the best circumstances. In that moment I wanted an abortion so much. And less than a week later, after I've decided to keep it, my baby's gone. It's all my fault. It knew I didn't want it."

"No Harry, no, that's not it," he said, grasping on to Harry's hands once more. "These things happen. Harry you mustn't think like that."

"But it's the truth." He looked at Severus, wide-eyed. "I cost us our baby."

"You didn't Harry. You changed your mind, that's the important thing. You were going to keep it." He lifted Harry's hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to it. "I'm just sorry I wasn't there for you."

"But you were," said Harry, wiping his tear-stricken face on his arm. "In the end, you were."

* * *

The dents the giants had caused in the castle walls had finally healed themselves and the patches of burnt grass that the dragons had singed with their breath had been renewed. Except the memorial statue that stood tall by the lake, all evidence that a war had ever taken place on the very grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was gone. 

Harry had spent Sunday night surrounded by his friends in the Great Hall, reminiscing about all the fun times they had had; Hagrid's mad pets, sneaking out after hours, being chased by Filch and Mrs Norris. They had learnt, seen, and done so much in the passed seven years and now it was time to leave all that behind. No more wandering off into the Forbidden Forest, no more avoiding Peeves and his mad pranks.

Hermione reminded them all that there was a world out there just waiting to be explored. It was time to put everything they had learnt to the test. Hogwarts may have been a big part of their lives but it was tiny compared to what was waiting for them.

As tough as it was to leave the school behind though, Harry was looking forward to it. This was his chance to see and do everything he wanted. He was an adult now, a fully qualified wizard. The rest of his life was about to begin – and Harry knew just who he wanted to spend it with.

When Sunday evening arrived and the pleasant festivities looked set to continue throughout the night, Harry excused himself.

* * *

Severus looked up from his book when there was a knock on his door. He was too comfortable to get up so he waved a hand in the direction of the entrance and opened the door magically. He sat up when he saw who it was. 

"Harry. What are you doing down here?"

"I don't know really," said Harry, looking around the room. He seemed so lost. "I was just…" he trailed off, but before Severus could say anything, Harry was speaking again. "I'm leaving tomorrow. I know we sort of went over this yesterday, but I just wanted to know where I stand. I don't want there to be more confusion."

Severus considered Harry for a moment before marking his page in his book and setting it aside. He shifted in his chair so that he was facing Harry properly.

"It's your call," he said. "What do you want?"

"I told you, I want to be with you."

"You need to think about that. I don't want you to waste your time on me because you feel you have to."

"I don't plan on wasting a single second," smiled Harry.

"You should be with people your own age," Severus pressed on, "Clubbing every night, getting pissed out of your head, sleeping with different people every other week. You know, being a youth?"

"I only want to be with you," Harry responded as he kneeled on the sofa on which Severus was seated.

"You've only ever been with me. Don't you want to experience it with others?"

"Do you want me to?" Harry asked with a slight pout.

Severus mentally cringed. The very idea of Harry being intimate with anyone else over then him was torture.

"I want you to be happy."

"I'm happy with _you_," said Harry, running a soft thumb along Severus' cheek; it came to rest on Severus' bottom lip."

"I feel I should warn you – I'm not a romantic person; I'm stubborn and insecure."

"You wouldn't be Severus Snape if you weren't," said Harry and he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Severus' lips.

"Then I guess…we're…"

"Lovers?" Harry supplied with a smile; "Partners? Sweethearts? Boyfriends?"

"A couple," said Severus. He pulled Harry on to his lap with a smile and wrapped his arms around him. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the feel of the other, until Harry spoke up.

"Why didn't Voldemort kill you when he found out that you weren't on his side?"

Severus looked at him, considering, and shrugged. "I assume he wanted me to suffer," he said. "He wanted me to see the war spill out onto Hogwarts' very own grounds."

They were silent again. Then Harry twisted around in Severus' arms. "Thank you for saving my life," he said, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"And thank _you_ for saving mine," Severus said, returning the kiss. Harry smiled and turned back round, wiggling against Severus' chest to make himself more comfortable. At last he stopped and Severus rested his head against the younger man's.

"I was planning on going on holiday," Harry said. "I don't know where to yet, but do you want to come with me?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. It'd be nice to spend some time together. Just the two of us."

"Hmm," Severus agreed. He cuddled Harry closer to him. He was silently amazed at just how much he had actually missed Harry. True, it did worry him slightly that Harry had gotten over the miscarriage so quickly, but he figured Harry was handling it in his own, private way. For now, he was content with just being here and holding him.

"So you'll come?" Harry asked hopefully.

Severus smiled. "I would love to come," he said, and Harry chuckled.

"But what about Sirius and Remus?" Harry asked.

"What about them?"

"Well, shouldn't we tell them about us? They are my guardians after all and they care a lot about me."

"Do you think they would be accepting of our relationship?" asked Severus, dubious.

"You've got a point," said Harry. "If Sirius found out we were sleeping together he'd probably kill you, kill me, then die of shock."

"That last part isn't necessarily a bad thing you know," Severus pointed out. Harry hit him on the arm.

"Like him or not, you two are going to have to learn to get along some day," he said. "We can't keep 'us' a secret forever."

"I know," Severus sighed. "But let's hold off telling him for now. We can worry about that after we get back from…where is it you fancy going?"

"It doesn't matter," said Harry. "As long as I'm with you, I'm happy."

_**The End**_

* * *

**A/N:** Don't you just love cheesy endings! 

Thank you all SO much to every single one of you who have read and reviewed this! And thank you for not being angry with chapter 14! That chapter got more reviews than any other and I appriciated your opinions on the issues raised. I'm sorry I wasn't able to respond to everyones reviews as I've been pretty busy with Uni and I broke my wrist the other night (lol, don't ask!) so that's sort of slowed me down.

**Sequel:** I think I'm gonna call it Chasing Perfection but I'm not entirely sure yet. I already have a few chapters done but I still need to add a few things to them. I have a busy week, assignment-wise, coming up, so it may take a short while to post. If all goes well though, it should be out some time next week. The fic includes two weddings, a baby, people finding out, and just general romantic fluff! I hope you guys decide to read it!

Thanks again for your support on this fic! xx


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